Feuding Worlds
by toSempiternity
Summary: When you mold together wizards, Greeks, and Romans, things are bound to turn out chaotic. Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter arrive just in time to participate in the Triwizard Tournament...well, let's just say that some things are best left undiscovered. / 5/25/14: Now being rewritten.
1. Magical Sticks

**This is post-TLH, but the Romans are at Hogwarts as well. So don't question it.  
><strong>

**I'm giving this Percy Jackson/Harry Potter crossover another try, since I deleted my last fanfic, Preparing, Planning, Puzzle. I hope that this will be more successful, and that you enjoy it. Cheers!**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter One<span>  
><strong>_Thalia_**  
><strong>

When you get turned into a tree when you're twelve years old, you'll never look at the definition of "normal" the same way ever again. Even so, I don't know exactly what Chiron was up to when he summoned the cabin leaders to go to England.

Yes. I said, _England_. I mean, what's so special about the United Kingdom when you have the whole of North America as a playground? I should have known that something was up when the centaur piled us into JFK Airport, giving each of us tickets to London.

"You'll know what to do when you get there," Chiron had told us.

Well, now, here we were, cramped into four rows with tiny seats, and I had the bad luck to sit next to Perseus "Percy" Jackson, hero of Olympus for two times in a row, son of Poseidon, Seaweed Brain, blah, blah, blah. Oh, wait, did I mention that he was hyperventilating and holding onto my arm as if it were a lifeline? Needless to say, I did not appreciate it one bit. I myself was feeling green from my acrophobia. The tiny blocks of blue sea and green ground that were seen outside our puny window were not helping one bit.

"Percy," I said through gritted teeth. "Do me a favor and hang on to Nico instead, will you?"

"No!" Nico moaned, his face buried in his hands. "Don't blast me, Uncle Zeus, please! I swear—"

Percy glanced out of the window and shuddered. "Z-Zeus is so going to kill m-me after this."

Annabeth's head popped into view from the row in front of us. "Gods, Percy, have you ever considered the fact that if Lord Zeus blasted you, he would be condemning eleven other demigods as well, one of whom is his daughter?" She smiled sheepishly at my expression. "Sorry about that last part, Thals."

I grumbled and waved her apology aside with my free hand. "Forget it. Just remember that on the return trip, I am _not_ sitting with Percy or Nico. You are."

"Deal," Annabeth agreed. "Better then the two I'm sitting next to, anyways."

She rolled her eyes as Travis and Connor Stoll both started laughing hysterically. It sounded like they had raided Chiron's store of milk chocolate.

By the time that we had gotten to London Heathrow Airport seven hours and forty minutes later, I was exhausted, snappish, and completely fed up with Percy mumbling and hanging on to my now-numb arm. I was seriously about to break something, preferably Percy's neck, if he didn't let go within five seconds. He was like a leech that didn't suck blood to me at that moment.

He's got to thank the gods for his girlfriend, who dragged him off of me when he had a tenth of a second left.

I rubbed my numb arm and went into the airport terminal, annoyed.

"Any of you know why in Hades we're in England?" Nico asked, recovering quicker from his adventure on the airplane than a certain son of Poseidon did.

"Well, if any of us had known, don't you think we would have shared it?" Katie Gardner from Demeter asked irritably as she swatted at Travis.

Nico shrugged and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black aviator's jacket. "Whatever. Chiron told us that we would know what to do when we got to London. I don't know what to do. Does anybody else know what to do? I don't know."

"Nico," Annabeth suspiciously asked as she untangled Percy from her arm. "Did Dionysus drive you temporarily drunk with rice wine?"

"Uh...no?"

Annabeth decided to go with that. It was probably for the better good, anyways.

"Now, what do we do?" I complained. "We're stuck in the middle of London's airport with no idea what to do."

"Why don't we go shopping?" Drew from Aphrodite said. Her suggestion was immediately shouted down by ten other protesting counselors.

Percy cut in. "Guys! Let's just get out of here and then, we'll discuss what to do. Deal?"

There was a general murmur of assent as everybody headed towards the nearest exit.

"So," I called as soon as we all stepped foot outside. "Why don't we just—"

"I have a better idea," Percy said, cutting into my remark. I rolled my eyes and muttered, "You didn't even hear what I was about to say."

"Why don't we follow them?" He pointed to a person in a green cloak that appeared to be waiting for us. He was looking at our group, anyways.

Our little assembly shuffled towards the man, who greeted us warmly.

"You are from...Camp Half-Blood, I assume?" the man asked brightly, adjusting a pointy black hat on his head.

"Yes," Percy said. "And you are...?"

"Very good, very good!" the man cried. He shook Percy's hand so vigorously that I thought his hand was going to be detached any second now. "I am Vincent Hoggins, and I am from the Ministry of Magic!"

"The Ministry of what?" I asked, confused. "Magic? Is that—"

"Yes, yes, yes!" the man said. He seemed to have a habit of repeating certain words. "We are very pleased, very pleased to have you here! Everything shall be explained, be explained when we get you, get you to Hogwarts!"

I heard Travis and Connor stifle a laugh as they heard the name "Hogwarts". I wasn't too far from laughing myself, actually. Was this Hogwarts a place that looked like a hog with warts?

"Follow me, follow me!" Vincent Hoggins set out on a heated walk, his cloak billowing out behind him.

"Remind me again, why did I take leave from the Hunters for this?" I muttered to Annabeth, who had caught up to me.

"Because Artemis made you," Annabeth patiently answered. Considering that this was about the billionth time I asked her that question, she was holding herself together remarkably well. I would have blown up at around ten times.

"Right," I mumbled as I brushed past a rather large man that was holding a bouquet of flowers.

We stopped in front of this broken old shop on "Charing Cross Road". Everybody else seemed to be passing it without knowing that it was there.

"Come on in!" Hoggins cried, waving us unconvinced demigods into the shop. "Welcome, welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, Leaky Cauldron!"

We passed an old man wiping the counter and a bunch of weird-looking creatures. One of them glanced up at us and darkly muttered something under his breath.

Hoggins led us through the "Leaky Cauldron" and stopped in front of a brick wall. He took out a long thin stick from his pocket and tapped some bricks in a counter-clockwise motion. The wall shivered, and spiraled out into a view that could rival Olympus. Well, not really, but you get my point.

"That," Connor whispered, "is amazing. Think of—"

I slapped him. "Don't even think about stealing anything, Stoll, or I swear, I'll fry off your eyebrows."

"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Diagon Alley! You are each required to get spellbooks, which have been pre-ordered for you, but you each must get a wand, get a wand from Ollivander's, Ollivander's! Your money, money has also been retrieved from your vault, your vault at Gringotts, Gringotts, but some of you must get it, get it!"

"A wand?" Percy quizzically asked, Nico on his heels. "Money?"

"Yes, yes, a wand!" Hoggins said. "I will see you, see you within the hour, hour!"

He scampered back to the Leaky Cauldron, leaving eleven dumbstruck demigods in his wake.

"Why don't we split up?" Annabeth offered. "Half of us can go to this Ollivander's place, and half of us can get the money. Then, the other half can get their wands, and the first half can just communicate. Fair and done?"

Annabeth quickly separated us into two groups without waiting for an answer. She herded all of her group to Gringotts, leaving me, Percy, and Nico to direct the other demigods. She should have never put three Big Three kids in a group, because there will be trouble.

"Well..." Percy started, pointing to a dark shop. "There's Ollivander's. Let's go get our magical sticks."

* * *

><p>"Maple, eleven and a half inches, unicorn hair, flexible."<p>

I was practically falling asleep standing up as I waited for results. I had literally tried every single wand in the shop, to no avail. The sticks just didn't cooperate with second group had long since come to get their wands, leaving us some money, leaving me with Kelp Face and Death Breath.

Percy waved another wand for what must have been the trillionth time, to no success. Instead, it bounced up and hit him square on the nose and clattered to the floor. Nico stifled a laugh.

Ollivander, the wand maker closely peered at Percy. He went to the back of his shop, carefully avoiding the mountainous pile of tried-out wands, and came back with three, sleek black cases.

My head snapped up from where I had been dozing when he opened the cases.

"Here," he offered Nico the first case in a wheezy, dry voice. "Ebony, twelve and three quarter inches, phoenix feather, rigid and unyielding."

Nico tentatively took the wand and yelped when a bunch of black and bronze-colored sparks shot out of the end of the wand.

"Interesting," Ollivander mumbled, plucking the wand from Nico's shaking fingers and putting it gently back into its case. "That will be ten Galleons, five Sickles, and four Knuts."

Nico counted out the coins, fumbling with them as he did so, and handed it to Ollivander. He rushed out of the shop with a hurried "Thanks!"

Percy acquired the next wand: "Redwood, eleven and a half inches, dragon heartstring, bendy. Good for charm-work."

He left in the same manner as Nico.

Ollivander offered me the last case, saying, "Pine, twelve inches, unicorn hair, moderately rigid. Go on, give it a try!"

I almost snorted at the irony as I heard the wood was "pine". Apparently, this wand liked me—it sent firecrackers whizzing around the shop.

Ollivander turned to me, his eyes gleaming. "You know," he began in that wheezy voice, "the other boy who came here took the twin of that wand, but the wood was oak. He did have the same eyes as you. The girl who acquired the first boy's twin wand...they had similar characteristics."

I gulped and handed the money over, gingerly taking the wand. I thanked him and slowly walked out of the wand shop, wondering who in Hades who was the boy Ollivander was talking about.


	2. Introductions

**Chapter Two  
><strong>_Jason_

I turned around for the billionth time and complained, "What in Pluto are we going to do?"

Reyna turned to me and scowled. "We wait. Shouldn't that be a bit obvious by now?"

"I don't like waiting," Dakota complained, pacing around the floor of our train compartment on the "Hogwarts Express". "Guys, we've been on this train for over four hours. Isn't it time that we arrived at this 'Hogwarts' place?"

"Stop yammering," Reyna said in a resigned tone of voice. "It won't get us anywhere."

"I bet that Hazel and Frank are already there," I mumbled. "Arion's way faster then this train."

"_Junk_ of a train," Bobby corrected. "Wonder what they're doing..."

Dakota shrugged and slumped in his seat, staring out the window. "Having a better time then we are, at any rate."

"I have a great idea," I snapped. "Why don't we just shut up and stare at the cows that we're passing by?"

"That's the worst idea I've ever heard from you," Dakota commented. "And no offense, Jason, but sometimes, your ideas are plain out terrible."

I huffed. "I'm sorry, but I'm not a son of Minerva! I never will be, too. I'm not as smart as Amber, you know."

Glaring out the compartment door, I caught sight of a boy with black hair and brown eyes yank open another door and pull a protesting girl with spiky black hair down the hall. I scooted over to the door as the girl slid out of the guy's grasp and said something that made me blanch: "What in Hades do you want from me?"

"Reyna," I nervously said, dragging her over to the door and letting her peer out of the window. "Who's Hades?"

Reyna slapped me to keep me quiet and leaned towards the door to listen. Behind me, I felt Dakota and Bobby move to see what was happening.

"Percy wants to see you," the guy was saying. The girl huffed, clearly annoyed.

"Well, couldn't Kelp Face move his lazy butt for a couple of feet to the room next to his instead of sending you over?" the girl irritably asked.

"He was IM-ing Chiron," the boy answered with a hint of impatience in his voice.

I reeled back from the door and collapsed in my seat as their footsteps faded from listening range.

"Hades? That's Pluto, right?" I asked Reyna. Reyna rolled her eyes. "Well, no duh, Air Head."

"Then why were the people using the Greek name? Wait, scratch that, why were they even _using_ the word 'Hades' in the first place?" Dakota asked, his black hair reflecting the sunlight that was streaming in.

"Well...there could be a number of reasons," I reasoned. "They could be Greek mythology addicts, and I noticed that mortals are more often familiar with Greek terms then Roman ones."

Reyna crossed her arms and muttered darkly under her breath, "But are they even mortals?"

"Don't be such a shadow of yourself," Bobby brightly said. "Be a bright ray of sunshine!"

Reyna hit him across the face as soon as he stopped speaking.

"That hurt!" Bobby complained, rubbing the bright crimson slap marks on his cheek.

"It was supposed to," Reyna answered without a hint of remorse in her voice. "Anyways, I want to check those people out. They're _definitely_ not mortals, Jason."

"Then, what are they?" Dakota asked. "_Empousai_?"

I rolled my eyes. "Dakota, boys can't be those she-demons, and you know that."

"Well, what about the girl?" Bobby pointed out. "She did have an air of—"

"Bobby," Reyna said. "You were looking at her through a window. Besides, if she was a monster, wouldn't she have attacked you by now?"

"You jinxed it!" Dakota howled, slapping his thigh and laughing. "Now, Bobby's going to be attacked within an hour!" he added sarcastically.

Oh, the irony of his statement. If only we knew that before they actually did come barging in.

There was a loud crash outside as a guy with black hair and green eyes tripped in, closely followed by a girl with blond hair and gray eyes.

"Percy," the blonde admonished in front of us, "the next time you charge in like that, don't trip over a backpack."

"He wasn't ever known for making smooth moves," the guy who we had seen before chuckled. Percy's cheeks colored.

"I told you they weren't mortals," Reyna muttered after a period of awkward silence.

I stood up. "Exactly why did you come in here without knocking?"

"He's clumsy," the boy with brown eyes said, jabbing a finger at Percy. "Didn't you notice that?"

Percy scowled at him. "The things I do for you, and you never repay it."

The boy shrugged. "Whatever...go on."

"Anyways," Percy said, turning to us. "Who are you? You must be real important if a talking wolf told us to see you."

"Who, Lupa?" Bobby absently asked. "She's the director of Camp Jupiter at San Francisco."

Reyna threw her hands up in exasperation. "Oh, yes, just give our position away in a sentence, will you?"

I said, "I'm Jason, son of Jupiter."

The blonde's mouth dropped open as she stared at me. "Do you mean Zeus? Jupiter's the Roman counterpart."

"No, Zeus is the Greek counterpart," I said. "We normally use the Roman terms. The Greek gods are dead. I mean, welcome to the real world..."

"Greek gods? Dead?" the boy behind the blonde asked, confused. "That's not right. I just saw my father the other day!"

"Hold it," Percy said, looking at me. "How in Poseidon's name can you be a son of Zeus?"

"Why can't I be?" I asked, starting to get really annoyed with him. "So, I'm not supposed to be alive. Well, Hazel isn't supposed to be living, either!"

"Hazel?"

"Never mind," I muttered. "The point is, I'm a son of Jupiter, or Zeus, whatever you want to call him."

Percy offered a hand. "Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon."

"You're not supposed to be alive, either, so what are you to question Jason?" Reyna rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, well, neither am I!" the other boy cheerfully said. "We have a nice trio of forbidden demigods, don't we?"

Reyna sighed and quickly muttered, "Reyna, daughter of Bellona. Don't even try asking who that is."

The blonde introduced herself as Annabeth Chase, daughter of Minerva, or Athena, and the guy was Nico di Angelo, son of Pluto or Hades.

"So," Percy asked, "what's your last name?"

The words felt alien on my tongue as I said, "Grace. Jason Grace."


	3. The Grace of Rejection

**I'm taking a break from all my other fanfics (yeah, that means Wanted: Neptune's Trident. I have a severe writer's block on that...sorry, The-Daughter-of-Rome...) and will focus my energy entirely on this. That sound good to you?**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter Three<span>**_  
><span>Percy<span>_

"Grace," Jason answered carefully. "Jason Grace."

I heard a thud behind me as Nico pitched forwards into Annabeth, who was too stunned to react and tell Nico off.

"But...you..." Annabeth croaked. She shook her head. "Nah, I'm hearing things. Never mind."

Jason and Reyna looked at all of us as if we were kleptomaniacs, which in a way, we were. "Well, then, what did you hear?" Reyna suspiciously asked, her eyes flitting to Jason.

"What I heard," Nico said in a small voice, "was that Jason's last name was Grace, which is technically unbelievable if his father was Zeus."

I raised an eyebrow at the guy with curly black hair, who taking a swig of red Kool-Aid out of a flask. He looked like a son of Dionysus.

Jason stood up. "Really," he insisted. "What's so wrong about my last name? It's not as if I have any..._siblings_." The way he lingered a bit on the word "siblings", it made me suspicious, but nobody else seemed to notice. "I'm the only child of Jupiter alive in the twenty-first century, you know that?"

"That's not right," Annabeth weakly protested as the curly haired guy belched, his eyes a bit unfocused. Reyna snatched his flask out of his hands without sparing the dude one glance. "What's not right?"

Nico bolted out of the room, presumably to drag Thalia over and ask if she was hiding anything from us. A second later, there was a loud crash. Heads poked out of compartments as Thalia sprinted down the train and skidded towards Annabeth, slamming into her back so hard that they both went plummeting to the floor.

"Ow!" Annabeth's muffled voice came from under a freaked-out Thalia, who got off of her friend and whipped around to glare at me. "You're hearing things," she accused. "You don't know what you're saying."

"What?" I protested as Reyna rolled her eyes. "He clearly said that his last name was 'Grace'! You can't deny it!"

The said boy sighed and asked, "Yes, leave me like I'm at the bottom of your minds. Don't mind me."

"No, no, no!" Thalia snapped, getting frustrated with me. Her eyes were full of anger, and underneath it, maybe a little bit of panic. "I. Don't. Have. A. Sibling."

"Of course you don't," the guy next to the curly-haired boy who was drinking Kool-Aid piped up. "Who are you, anyways?"

Thalia gave him an evil glare and stalked out of the room. Jason stared after her, his mouth slightly agape. "Um...I've...uh, gotta go for a second. Be back in a flash!"

He was gone before anybody knew it. Reyna stared after him. "Who was the girl?" she asked after a long period of awkward silence.

Annabeth rubbed her kneecap and answered in a tone of voice I've never heard her use, "Thalia...um, Grace, daughter of Zeus. She got turned into a tree when she was twelve. I think that she freaked out because that Jason had the same godly parent as her and the same last name."

Reyna scowled after Jason. "Well, by the way they were both acting, it was like neither expected to see the other ever again, which makes me think that Jason was hiding something about his family from everybody at Camp Jupiter...even Lupa."

At that moment, Jason came stumbling back in, ashen-faced. He collapsed in his seat, rubbing his temples and making a small sound in the back of his throat that sounded like he was about to start sobbing.

"Jason," Reyna said loudly, shaking him. "Wake up and smell the ambrosia. What happened?"

Jason coughed something out that sounded like "Ooga ma looma."

"Come again?" Reyna asked, scowling.

Jason gulped and moistened his lips. "I...need to tell you something really important."

Thalia poked her head in the room, grabbed Annabeth, Nico, and I, and dragged us unceremoniously towards our compartment and slammed the door.

Annabeth pounced on her immediately. "You're hiding something from me."

"Actually," Thalia mumbled, putting her head in her hands, "I was lying to everybody at camp."

I exchanged a glance with Annabeth, who looked a little bit green.

"Jason...you have a relationship with him, don't you?" I asked, leaning forwards. "Something important, and something that happened that was so bad that you just wanted to put it behind you."

Thalia threw her hands up in exasperation. "And Annabeth calls you Seaweed Brain?"

Annabeth huffed in annoyance. "Well, sometimes, he's actually surprisingly logical!"

Nico gasped like a little girl that just got a new episode of _Barney the Purple Dinosaur_. "You both just called Percy 'smart'!"

Under the combined death glares of Thalia and Annabeth, who were both famous at camp for their evil glares, Nico cowered in his seat and shut his mouth up.

"Anyways," I said, "what kind of connection to you have with Jason, anyways?"

Annabeth stared at Thalia, who shuddered. "I knew that something was up when you started jabbering about wolves the first minute after you got purged from your tree."

I winced at the memory. I had thought for two weeks that Thalia had gone insane after being a tree for six years.

"Sorry about that," Thalia muttered. "The point is...Jason's my...my..." She suddenly found a really interesting shoelace and started playing with it. When she looked up, her eyes were a bit glassy. I hadn't ever seen her cry. "Oh...I don't like talking about it." She rubbed her eyes. "You can ask Jason about it. I can't go through that day one more time." Her tone made it clear that she wasn't going to reveal anything else.

"Thalia," Annabeth gently said. "It's okay. You can talk about it here..."

It turned out that Thalia couldn't talk about it here, because by that point, she was on the edge of an emotional breakdown. One little push, and she would probably jump off the edge.

Nico awkwardly stood up and said uncomfortably, "I'll...check on the others." He walked out of the room. I wondered if we were going to get in trouble for walking around the train so much.

Thalia spent the rest of the train ride shivering and staring down at the floor. She looked like she was about to lose it any second and start sobbing.

For me, I stared out of the window and wondered why we were going to this Hogwarts place. I needed to think, for once. Who were Jason and Reyna? I had never seen them at Camp Half-Blood, and they claimed that they were demigods. So, who were they?

Then, there was the weirdness of them constantly using the Roman terms of the gods. Why they didn't use the Greek terms, that was a mystery to me.

But something that the guy sitting next to the son of Dionysus nagged at me. He said that...there was something at San Francisco. Camp Jupiter. And Jupiter was the Roman form of Zeus. Between that and the fact that they were demigods (or so they claimed) and they used the names of the gods, I wondered if there was another camp for demigods that were hidden to Camp Half-Blood. But even if my assumption was right, exactly _why _were they hidden from us?


	4. The Quintwizard Tournament

**Chapter Four**  
><em><span>Harry<span>_

It's funny how much your life can change in one hour.

I had never seen the Hogwarts Express this chaotic. Some kids in orange and purple T-shirts were running down the aisle, slamming doors and generally, causing a huge commotion. Heads were poking out of compartments to assess what was wrong.

"Blimey," Ron said, peering out our window as a guy with black hair yanked open a door and unceremoniously tossed a girl inside, following himself. "They are on a mad sugar rush."

Hermione glanced up from where she was reading a book. She closed it and frowned at the compartment across from us. "Well, they're probably the exchange students from America."

"Exchange students from America?" I asked, confused. "Dumbledore allows that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, there are tons of wizards and witches from other countries at Hogwarts! Haven't you ever noticed that?"

"If I did," I countered, "would I be asking why there are exchange students from America?"

Hermione shrugged and went back to reading. "You can be surprisingly logical at times, you know."

The meaningless banter continued until we got to Hogwarts, lights blazing out of every window. We got out with Hermione stuffing her morbidly obese book in her already-bursting-at-the-seams bag.

We were immediately caught by the downpour of rain as soon as we climbed out. Hermione shivered. "I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather..."

"Who would?" Ron grumbled, ruffling his extremely damp hair.

"Hi, Hagrid!" I waved to the giant silhouette at the far end of the platform.

"All righ', Harry?" Hagrid boomed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

"Lovely," a girl's voice muttered next to me. One of the exchange students, a girl with startlingly blue eyes trudged past us, trailing after a guy with green eyes who looked completely dry. I could almost hear Ron glowering at the guy. I could hear the girl's voice as her voice faded from earshot: "Did you really have to be that obvious? Everybody was staring at you..."

We caught an empty carriage, Neville joining us about a minute later. The doors shut with a snap and the horseless carriages creaked. The carriages began splashing their way up to the Hogwarts castle.

* * *

><p>"Blimey," Ron muttered, shaking the rain from his hair. "If that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak—ARGH!"<p>

His already bad mood wasn't improved by the large water balloon that came whizzing out of nowhere. It exploded on top of Ron's head. Ron stumbled sideways into me, just in time for another water balloon to drop. It narrowly missed Hermione, who quickly stepped away, and broke open at my feet, sending a wave of icy water into my shoes.

Everybody shrieked around us as they started trampling each other to get to the Great Hall.

"Holy Jupiter!" A guy with blue eyes seemed to swear as his whole back got damp with a blue water balloon. "Let's go before we contract hypothermia." He weaved his way between the yelling and hyperventilating students, some other people in purple T-shirts maneuvering with expertise between the wizards and witches blocking their way to the Great Hall.

"PEEVES!" cried an angry voice. Professor McGonagall, the deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, came dashing out of the Great Hall. She skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione to keep her balance.

"Ouch—sorry, Ms. Granger—"

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione wheezed, rubbing her throat.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. There were several nasty thuds on the other side. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.

"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves—"

Peeves waggled his ghostly tongue and tossed the last of the water balloons in the air, zooming up the marble staircase while insanely giggling.

"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

Ron, and Hermione, and I slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right, Ron muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face.

As usual, the Great Hall looked amazing, especially since it was decorated for the start-of-the-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. We walked past the Slytherins (who jeered...not that it was much of a surprise), the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost.

Hermione nudged me as she pointed to the visitors. They were all sopping wet, including the boy with green eyes, and the orange-clad ones were staying a respectable distance away from the kids with the purple T-shirts. None of them were wearing their robes. Both groups were lurking near the right end of the wall.

The girl [clad in a silver jacket, blue...jeans, (is that what they call it?) and combat boots] who had snapped at the guy earlier still seemed to be arguing with him. Another girl with blond hair was talking quietly with a guy with shaggy black hair, who tilted his head towards the other group. All the other people in orange seemed to be hanging around, occasionally laughing as they conversed with each other.

Meanwhile, the people in the purple shirts were all murmuring quietly to each other. I picked out a guy with thin blond hair and an angular face, holding a stuffed bear. There was a girl with long black hair tied back into a braid. A girl with curly blond hair was staying away from the main knot of people, occasionally bending down and shoving some things in her pocket. She looked incredibly nervous, like the ground was about to swallow her up.

Hermione gaped as the ground cracked under the girl's feet and a large, silver-ish nugget popped up from the ground. The girl nervously looked around again to make sure no one was looking, and then made a shoving motion with her hand. The precious stone zoomed back into the ground, leaving a scar on the stone floor. My jaw could have touched the Gryffindor table.

"Did you just _see_ that?" Hermione squeaked, clutching Ron's arm. "That was...terrifying!"

I never got the chance to answer, because Ron moaned besides me, "Oh, hurry up...I could eat a hippogriph!"

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If we were wet, it was nothing to how these first years looked. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school—all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what I recognized as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it hooked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited.

Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song.

All the while, the visitors hadn't stopped their little conversations, and none of the teachers seemed to be telling them off. Dumbledore was smiling amiably at the Hat's song. Even Snape ignored them completely as he devoted his attention towards the Sorting Hat.

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished its song.

"It was different from when we got Sorted," I noticed.

"Sings a different one every year," said Ron. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool. I noticed the blond girl take a sudden interest in the guy.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.

Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him. I caught a glimpse of Cho, the Ravenclaw Seeker, cheering Stewart Ackerley as he sat down. For a fleeting second, I had a strange desire to join the Ravenclaw table too.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The table on the other side of the hall erupted with cheers; I could see Malfoy clapping as Baddock joined the Slytherins. I wondered whether Baddock knew that Slytherin House had turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other. Fred and George hissed Malcolm Baddock as he sat down.

I must say, the Sorting seemed to take longer than usual. Probably because my stomach was moaning for food. I felt like an empty trunk.

"Oh, hurry up," Ron moaned, clutching his stomach and hungrily staring at the golden plates.

"Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food," chided the Nearly Headless Nick. Ron glowered at the pearly white ghost. "Yeah, 'cause ghosts can't eat!"

Once all the first years were sorted, McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away.

"About time," said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

But nothing happened to the dishes. Murmurs of indignation rippled throughout the Great Hall. Dumbledore stood up. "This year," his voice boomed, "we have some very special guests."

All heads immediately turned to the visitors, who didn't seem to notice all the attention suddenly fixated on them.

Dumbledore loudly cleared his throat, and all of them turned his way. One of them, the guy with green eyes said really intelligently: "Oh. Hi, what's up?"

The blond girl kicked him in the shins. He stared at her, not seeming to notice what she did. "Yes?"

The girl rolled her eyes and stepped back. "Smart," she seemed to mutter under her breath.

"They have come all the way from the United States of America," Dumbledore continued, "because a very special event is about to happen this year. But more on that after our feast! Let us welcome our newest arrivals!"

There was a smattering of applause as everybody but the Sltyherins uneasily clapped for a while.

"Where will they be staying?" Malfoy called out rather snidely. "They won't be Sorted, will they?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he waved his wand. Tables materialized in front of both groups. "No, they will not be Sorted. We have prepared...special dormitories for both groups."

There was an outbreak of confused yelling as the visitors looked unperturbed, like they knew this was coming. Whatever the case, I wondered how they were so special that Hogwarts would bother to make two new dormitories for groups that couldn't have more than a dozen people in each.

"Enough of this talk!" Dumbledore said, sitting down. "Tuck in!"

"Hear, hear!" said me and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before our eyes.

Nearly Headless Nick watched mournfully as Ron, Hermione, and I loaded our own plates.

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato.

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said Nearly Headless Nick. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

"Why? Wha' 'appened?" I asked, through a sizable chunk of steak. Hermione swatted me and reprimanded, "Don't talk with your mouth full!"

"Ron's doing it," I pointed out.

"You're not Ron," Hermione countered.

"Peeves, of course," said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast—well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council—the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance—but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent specter covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves.

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," said Ron darkly.

"So what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh the usual," said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits—"

_Clang._

Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention.

"There are house-elves here?" she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at Hogwarts?"

"Certainly," said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" said Hermione.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" said Nearly Headless Nick. "They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning...see to the fires and so on...I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

Hermione stared at him.

"But they get paid?" she stammered. "They get holidays, don't they? And—and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck.

"Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, spraying me with Yorkshire pudding. "Oops—sorry, 'Arry—"

Ron gave a huge swallow. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

I chortled and kept on digging into my steak.

"Slave labor," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor." And she refused to eat another bite.

Meanwhile, the visitors were having their own problems. All the purple-clad ones were eating like it was all fine, but the ones in orange were staring at their food like to take a single bite was a huge sin.

One of them raised her hand. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at her from where he was neatly tucking into some chicken. "Yes, Miss Chase?"

"Uh," the blond girl said, "back at our place, we have this 'custom'...we sacrifice a portion of our food to our...uh, other parent."

"Other parent?" Ron whispered in indignation. "_Sacrifice your food?_"

The ones in purple stared at them like they were crazy. Dumbledore, on the other hand, didn't blink an eye as a large bronze brazier appeared in front of the kids. All of them stood up with their plates and lined up in a single file line. The Great Hall was so quiet that you could hear each item of food drop into the fire and burn.

"Poseidon." The guy with green eyes approached the fire, his head bowed, and tossed in a fat cluster of grapes.

Everybody followed suit, each of them saying a different name. They were "sacrificing", I noticed, the best part of their food. The warmest, most buttery roll here, the juiciest and most flavorful slice of roast beef there.

"Athena."

"Dionysus."

"Hermes," two identical boys said in unison.

"Zeus...uh, and Artemis."

"Hephaestus."

"Apollo."

"Aphrodite."

"Hades."

"Demeter."

"Ares."

Ron was gaping at them like each and every single one of them had commited a huge offense. Hermione, meanwhile, hadn't taken any notice of what the people did, and was still muttering to herself darkly when the visitors sat down again and began eating like nothing happened. A guy who had curly black hair from the purple kids frowned at his goblet and mumbled something that sounded like, "More Kool-Aid!" I didn't have the slightest idea on what he was talking about.

Dumbledore cleared his throat after the feast, which was continued in total silence with barely anybody eating anything else.

As the second part of the feast drew to a close, Dumbledore rose and clapped his hands for attention.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered," ("Hmph!" muttered Hermione) "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

I saw the two guys who said "Hermes" rub their hands until the guy with brown eyes seemed to step on their feet.

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched as he eyed the two guys. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" I gasped. I looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy—but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts—"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

Somebody from the purple group mumbled, "Oh, Jupiter..."

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any I had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye—and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The whole Great Hall nervously fidgeted, and I noticed that quite a few of the visitors' hands were creeping towards their pockets.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words Harry couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students. A pretty girl from the orange group flinched violently as the eye rested on her for a moment.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, along with a few uncertain visitors, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

"Moody?" I muttered to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it.

As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar."

Somebody guffawed, a big burly guy from the purple clad group. He didn't notice that one of his own compatriots was kicking him, and he continued to chuckle.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er—but maybe this is not the time...no..." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities—until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Sounds fun!" the guy with shaggy brown hair from the orange group eagerly said. "I can swing by to visit my father!"

The two people that were besides him, the girl in silver camouflage and the boy with green eyes, both smacked him around the head.

"Shut up, Death Boy," the girl snapped.

"Right. I'll shut up—ow! What was that for?"

All their other team members looked like they wanted to die from embarrassment.

"This year," Dumbledore continued, his eyes flitting to both groups, "we will also be having some...ah, interesting Muggles, if I may say, join us in the Triwizard Tournament, so there will be five champions this year.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the five champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, I could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age—that is to say, seventeen years or older—will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This only applies to each of the three participating schools. Each of the contenders from the two camps in America, however, are free to choose whether or not they want to do it."

He raised his voice at the loud objections coming from Hogwarts. "However, this has been set because Chiron and Lupa—er, excuse me, the directors of the camps have assured us that each of these campers are...ahem, capable of handling themselves in case they run into a difficult situation."

"Difficult situation?" the guy with green eyes indignantly spluttered. Dumbledore waved his comment aside. "Well, now! I believe that I have spoken enough for tonight! Off to bed, all of you, tut tut! If the visitors would come to me for a moment, please."

Everybody began to file out of the Great Hall, murmuring amongst themselves, while the visitors stood and walked to Dumbledore, who started talking to them in a low undertone.

"Who do you reckon they are?" I asked Hermione as we started walking to the Gryffindor dorm. Hermione frowned. "Well, they were using the names of the Greek and Roman Muggle gods...I don't know what's up with that."

Something about them made me feel uneasy, like we weren't going to survive a week with the supposed "visitors" at Hogwarts. I was sure that complete pandemonium would break out once they entered the Triwizard Tournament.

* * *

><p><strong>Whoa, that's my longest chapter ever. DISCLAIMER: PARTS OF THIS WERE TAKEN FROM THE GOBLET OF FIRE. I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR PERCY JACKSON.<strong>


	5. Addicted With Acorns

**Chapter Five**  
><em><span>Percy<span>_

"So," the old man whom I now know as "Dumbledore" said, "Both of your dormitories are on the twelfth floor. Well...your parents insisted. You'll know where it is when you get there...there are certain signs that indicate where they are."

Dumbledore turned to me and handed me this gigantic bronze key. "Don't worry; it's as light as a feather!" he assured me, seeing the expression on my probably-doubtful face. I hesitantly took it, and it actually _was_ as light as air.

"I believe that the keyhole is somewhere around the _wall_," he said, emphasizing the word "wall". He turned to Jason Grace. "As for your little group, she'll know what to do." His gaze rested on a girl with curly brown hair, who blinked as Dumbledore pressed a tiny diamond into her hand. She stared at it for a moment, and then slipped it in her pocket. "Sure," she mumbled. "I know what to do."

Jason waved his hand. I caught a glimpse of a strange mark on his forearm, the words saying: **SPQR** with an eagle behind it. There were twelve parallel lines underneath it, each stripe a vertical line. It looked like it was burned on.

"Lead on, then." The girl glanced behind her back, like she was sure a hellhound would suddenly bite her head off, and then she started climbing the marble staircase, Jason's group following her. Their footsteps faded from hearing range. Nico stared at the girl, and then threw a nervous look at Thalia, who didn't notice what he did. She was still muttering something under her breath, not paying the least bit attention to what was happening.

"Well, off the bed, all of you!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "You have a long day ahead of you, so it's better to get as much sleep as you can! Tut tut!"

I nodded and headed up the marble staircase with the counselors following me.

Hogwarts is a weird school. We got lost more then ten times, with all those rotating staircases, exploding doors, doors that were actually walls but pretended to be doors, more exploding donkeys, cabbages, doors that wouldn't let you through if you didn't scream loud enough (Clarisse took care of that. She would wave something disgusting in front of Drew's face, and _voila!_ Problem solved.) and invisible walls. I had smashed my nose against so many of those that if I didn't have my Achilles' Curse, it would have been a squashed tomato.

"Here," I gasped, rubbing my face after I had walked into an exploding _donkey._ "I think it's here. Where's this wall? It's the twelfth floor."

"Maybe it's an invisible wall," Annabeth pointed out helpfully.

Thalia shook her head. "No wall. I think I can see that much." She pointed to a suit of armor. "There's something by that, though."

I followed her finger and found myself staring at a rusty steel sword. "Don't see anything but a dull and flat blade," I said.

Thalia huffed in exasperation. "Give me the key, Jackson." Since I had no idea what to do and it wasn't a good idea to anger her at ten o'clock in the night, I tossed her the key. She deftly caught it and jammed it in what seemed to be thin air. She seemed to shatter an invisible boundary as she turned the key about an eleventh of the way through a levitating keyhole. "Huh. Can't turn it any further than that. Maybe each one of us has to turn it...each one of the counselors?"

I took the key and twisted. Sure enough, the key refused to go any further when I turned it clockwise a bit more. "Cool security system!" I cheered.

We each took a twist at the key and eventually, a polished mahogany door shivered into existence and creaked open.

Annabeth took one peek in and I thought that she would bring half the castle running. "Oh, my gods...this place is..." She ran into the dormitory without another word, and the rest of us trotted in after her.

The place was spectacular. The main common room itself was enough to get everybody gaping, even Clarisse. There was twelve sections like a pie wedge, and a large circle in the middle that read: _Hades._ Each section's floor had something pertaining to the god or goddess it represented, and twelve staircases leading off from each.

Nobody could see Annabeth anywhere, but it was a sure bet that she ran up the section that was gray-ish silver and had an olive tree and owl as its emblem.

"This...place...is...totally...SWEET!" Travis screamed. He and his brother raced up the white section with winged shoes and a caduceus without a joke, which must have meant they were both extremely excited. I could hear Connor yell, "So many tricks...we could last five years with this stuff!"

A couple minutes later, everybody was settling into their own quarters. When I climbed up the Poseidon part, I came into a room that looked like it was underwater. Like, literally _underwater_. I could feel the coolness of the liquid on my arm, and there were sea creatures swimming around happily, some of which I didn't even recognize.

"Wow," a voice observed. Nico stood at the edge of the stairs, dabbing at the water-air. "Sorry if I intruded on your personal space..."

"Nah, it's okay," I said. "Come in!"

Nico shrugged. "I can't, unless I want to drown. This place is completely made out of water." He cupped his hand and scooped some of the liquid, which seemed to be held back by some force, and it spilled through his fingers.

"You like this place, don't you?" Nico laughed. "I bet that Thalia's having a heart attack in hers. She has acrophobia, right?"

"Acro-what?"

"Never mind," Nico said. "I took a peek at the Zeus room. It looks like you are floating in the sky...ha!" His peal of laughter rang throughout the whole room. "Understatement. It's feels _and_ looks like you're in the sky. There's even a part of the room in where there is a lightning storm going on, twenty-four/seven. I doubt that Thals is going to sleep tonight!" He smiled dreamily, probably imagining Thalia's expression. "Ah, well...this place is Erebus. It's totally awesome!"

"Erebus isn't awesome," I said, shivering.

Nico frowned as he considered the validity of my statement. "Yeah, sure...well, I like Erebus. And the Fields of Asphodel. Like, I actually met my other sister—" He froze, carefully looking at my expression. He gulped as my mouth dropped open. "Did you just say...'other sister'?"

Nico bit his lip. "Uh, no, I didn't. You're hearing things."

"Two things," I mildly said, "One, I thought that you swore that you would not start sounding like Thalia, and two, I saw your expression. You just revealed something important, didn't you?"

"Look," Nico said, panicking a little bit. "There are things going on here that are more powerful then Olympus itself. I'll just say that purple is the color of royalty, the Roman emperors. I can't tell you what's happening, and you'll find out in due time, anyways. I promise."

He was out before I could say anything, but a nagging thought at the back of my mind kept on pestering me. Purple, the color of royalty, the color of the Roman emperors. Jason and his friends were wearing purple T-shirts. They talked in _Roman_ terms. And, I just remembered from a lecture from my girlfriend, the gods were Roman almost as long as they were Greek. I stared at a bunk at the corner of the room and went to lay on it. I didn't know exactly what was going on, I had a feeling when all the puzzle pieces finally clicked together into a large picture, I wouldn't like what I saw.

* * *

><p>I woke up at seven thirty to a loud thump downstairs. I jumped out of bed and rushed into a bathroom that I hadn't noticed was there the night before. I quickly got changed, took a shower, brushed me teeth, et cetera, et cetera.<p>

I raced downstairs to see a pile of bones on top of a freaked-out Drew, who was screaming at the top of her lungs: "THIS WILL RUIN MY NEW HAIRSTYLE! YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT! GET THE...THE...VULGAR AND NASTY THINGS OFF OF ME, DI ANGELO! GET THEM OFF!" Drew screamed again, absolutely terrified of the inanimate, bleached white bones.

The scene wasn't helping my stomach. There was a groan from the Zeus part of the dormitory as Thalia staggered out, bags under her eyes. It was clear that she hadn't had a wink of sleep last night. "Ne-Ne-never...g-going...th-the-there...a-a-a-ag-again...t-too..." She dropped from sheer terror/exhaustion.

"Oh, gods," I muttered. "You're sleeping in the Artemis part tonight, or I'll skewer you, I swear!"

Thalia groggily sat up and shook her head. "Ugh...stupid...heights...eagles...lightning...griffins...acorns..."

Annabeth walked down from the Athena hall and stopped when she saw the scene in front of her: her best friend collapsing onto a couch and falling asleep right then and there, Drew still in hysterics with Nico and Clarisse laughing at her.

"Percy," she said, her voice quiet. "What is happening here?"

I shrugged. "Oh, Thalia didn't get any sleep last night because of her...uh, problem with heights—"

"What?" Annabeth's expression was priceless as she gaped at Thalia, who rolled onto the floor and snapped awake.

"Never mind," I quickly said. "And Nico thought that it would be fun to bury Drew in bleached bones."

To my surprise, Annabeth just crashed on a couch and began fiddling with a blueprint. "Okay, then. We'll leave it at that...breakfast's at eight, right?"

"Sure," Thalia moaned, "just get me out of here! Where's the door?"


	6. Aquilas and Spas

**Chapter Six**  
><em><span>Jason<span>_

When we came down the breakfast, Dakota was in this stage of withdrawal from red Kool-Aid. He was whimpering the whole night about guinea pigs and sugar, and nobody in the group had slept well. At best, I slept fitfully, so when I woke up in the morning, I felt like a walking zombie.

"Uhhh..." Dakota moaned, his head dropping onto the edge of our table and landing with a crack. "I'b feelbing crubby..." He sounded like he had nasal inflammation.

A second after he said, that, Percy and his friends tromped downstairs. The girl that looked like a child of Venus was scolding Nico di Angelo. She had some bones in her hair.

My sister, meanwhile, was staggering around like she was also suffering a withdrawal from something, which I hoped wasn't the case. Thalia sat down hard on her chair and groaned, laying her head in her hands. She seemed to begin sleeping.

"Wake up!" Percy loudly said, shaking her shoulder.

"Ugh...stupid...acorns..." was Thalia's intelligent response.

"What's with you and acorns?" Nico asked, plopping down onto the seat next to her.

Thalia didn't do anything other then say in a muffled voice, "Shut up or I'll skewer you."

Annabeth sighed and said, "For the gods' sake, Nico...just leave her alone."

Nico pouted. "But this is the first time I've seen her like this! Why can't I have some fun with that? I promise I won't do anything physically scarring!"

"You never said mentally," Thalia mumbled through a mouthful of cloth. Nico huffed in annoyance.

The rest of the castle began filing in a few minutes later, chattering and laughing amongst themselves.

"Hey," I nudged Reyna. "Last night, what was up with the whole 'sacrificing-your-food-to-the-gods' thing?"

"Eh, it's just a tradition we do." Percy's elbows hit our table, causing all the silverware...er, "goldware" to rattle. For some reason or another, I saw a momentary glower flash across Reyna's face. It was gone in a microsecond, so I wasn't really sure if it was just an illusion.

"Why?" I asked incredulously. "The gods won't appreciate it one way or another." Percy looked shocked at my answer. "Of course they do! Some of them could even _live_ off the smoke of the burned food! Like, Demeter and Apollo!"

"Ceres," Bobby said, swiveling in his chair. Dakota swooned and began snoring.

"Ceres, Demeter...doesn't matter," Percy impatiently said. Octavian sat up straighter in his chair, paying attention to every single word Percy was saying. Reyna scowled at the centurion, and I was agreeing with her that now was _not_ the time to start a campaign for "finding-if-there-are-still-Greek-demigods-and-killing-them" business. The camp augur claimed that it would be fun.

"The point is," Percy continued, not noticing the glare that Octavian was giving him, "if we don't sacrifice a part of our food to the gods, they'll be pretty mad. Besides, it's good to honor our parents and all that goodwill stuff."

"So," Bobby asked, "you do this at every single meal, or just dinner? Or supper, whatever you want to call it."

"Every meal," Percy clarified. "If you can catch a whiff of the smoke as the food burns, you'll understand why it also benefits us. The burning food smells terrific."

I was seriously beginning to think that the son of Neptune (Poseidon, whatever) was a klutz in the head. Burning food that smells good? That was a completely new one.

"Say," Percy queried, his eyes flickering to my forearm. "What's up with that tattoo?"

I frowned at the marks that were burned onto my skin. "This? What about it?"

"Well...why do you have it, and why does it have an eagle and the words 'SPQR' on it? The parallel marks?"

I shrugged. "My godly parent, Jupiter. That's what the eagle is for. The 'SPQR', they're initials. They mean, _Senatus Populusque Romanus,_ a direct English translation—"

"'The Senate and People of Rome'," Annabeth noted, sidling in as well. Reyna's face darkened even more. "Although why you would burn that on your arm, I don't know. It was the motto of the old Roman Empire, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, well, our camp, Camp Jupiter, it's sort of following the old Roman ways, keeping the empire's legacy alive. The Fifth Cohort, we're the Twelfth Legion Fulminata, the nickname that Julius Caesar gave us—the _Fulminata_ part means 'Armed with Lightning'. It's our own motto."

Annabeth stared at me with those stormy gray eyes of hers. "Yes, because of your eagle, the _aquila_, right? The one that was lost."

My mouth dropped open.

Annabeth noticed her expression. "Well, don't look at me like that, Chiron told me once and then he shut up. You lost it the first time in some Jewish fight, and the second time, you lost it because of the giant Alcyoneus."

"Alcy-who? That isn't in our history books," I muttered. Across from me, I saw Hazel freeze in her spot. Her knuckles turned snow-white as she gripped the edge of the table.

"Never mind," Annabeth said. "It was your legion standard, the _aquila_. Supposedly, it was infused with the power of Zeus, or Jupiter, himself. That's why the Romans were scrambling to recover it the first time you lost it...each of them would give their own life rather then have their _aquila_ stolen, or they would melt it down."

In the months that I had worked with her, I'd never seen Reyna look like this. Her mouth was flapping open like a fish in desperate need of water, and I probably didn't look any better. This girl, Annabeth had just recited the importance of our legion standard better then even Lupa could have. I didn't even know that it was called an '_aquila_', and I'd been in the Fifth Cohort for thirteen years.

"Y-yes," I stammered, "how d-d-did you kn-know th-th-that?"

Annabeth looked surprised. "You didn't know that?" She glanced at Percy, who had gone back to his own table. She leaned forwards and said in such a quiet tone that I strained to hear, "I think that the rise of Alcyoneus has something to do with the Second Great Prophecy."

"The 'Second Great Prophecy'?" Octavian asked, brightening considerably at the word "prophecy". I gave an irritated look to him.

Annabeth sighed and started to recite, "_Seven half-bloods shall answer the call. To storm or fire, the world must fall. An oath to keep with a final breath, and foes bear arms to the Doors of Death._"

Octavian's eyes lit up. "The Prophecy of Seven, you mean? That's several thousand years old—"

Annabeth frowned at that. "It only came last August, actually."

I cut in. "No, it isn't...whenever somebody tries to interpret it, really bad things happen. That's the prophecy that led to the second time we lost our standard—our '_aquila_'." I raised an eyebrow at Reyna, who stared at the table, fiddling with a silver-and-black ring. She wasn't objecting to the fact of what I was about to tell Annabeth, so I forced myself to continue.

"Michael Varus, a son of Mars, he was our senior praetor at the time our standard went missing. That prophecy, the Prophecy of Seven, he thought that if he fulfilled it, he would bring glory to the Fifth. He consulted the camp augur—"

Octavian smugly smiled.

"—in the nineteen-eighties, and the augur told Varus that the answer was in Alaska. But the augur also warned Varus that the Prophecy of Seven wasn't meant for him. He took a massive expedition to Alaska anyways, and they had this huge accident. Most of the Fifth Cohort's Imperial Gold—"

"What?" Annabeth queried. "What's 'Imperial Gold'?"

"Monster-slaying metal," Reyna said without looking up. Annabeth knit her eyebrows, but she didn't say anything. She was looking at Reyna strangely, though.

"Anyways," I pressed, "Most of the Fifth's Imperial Gold weapons were lost, along with the _aquila_. The survivors that came back went insane. They wouldn't tell anybody what had happened."

Hazel looked as white as a bed-sheet. She looked like she was about to break the table in half. I frowned at her. "What's up?"

"N-nothing," Hazel mumbled, her grip not relaxing even a bit. "Nothing's wrong." I raised an eyebrow at her. "Aw, Hazel, you're about to kill the table—"

Annabeth suddenly started. She said to Reyna, "I've seen you before...I just can't remember where."

Reyna looked away, her hands clenching. "I don't know you," she said in a neutral voice.

"I've seen you before!" Annabeth insisted firmly. "It was..." She frowned, staring into the distance.

"Annabeth!" Nico tugged at Annabeth's arm. "Come on; you're going to miss breakfast!"

Annabeth muttered, "Just give me a second..." Nico did the exact opposite. He dragged a protesting Annabeth towards their table. Reyna exhaled. I hadn't even noticed that she was holding her breath.

"What's wrong?" I asked. Reyna jumped like she had been pounced on. "Oh..." She hit the table with her fist, causing the dishes, which now contained breakfast food to rattle. Everybody around us jumped like a rocket. Reyna scowled at them, which quickly brought them back to paying more attention to their food. "Fine." She lowered her voice. "I can't lie to you...I know Percy and Annabeth. I...I..." Reyna looked like she was trying to swallow a tank full of rats. She jabbed at her forearm. "Four years. Four years ago, they destroyed my first home."

"Your first home," I said numbly.

"Don't sound so surprised! My sister—"

I frowned. "You never told me that you had a sister. What's her name?"

Reyna waved that aside. "Not important. The point is, my sister and I were attendants at 'C.C's Spa and Resort'—"

"_Excuse me_?" I choked. I couldn't imagine Reyna waiting on women with cucumbers over their eyes and herbal gunk on their faces. "My gods!"

Reyna looked like she was about to slap me silly. "Jason, please...can I continue without interruptions?"

I held up my hands. "Okay, okay...sorry. Go on."

"Anyways, Percy and Annabeth came in this little ragtag boat to the place. C.C., our mistress, was actually Circe, right? She hates men, so naturally, she would try to turn all men that came here into guinea pigs."

"Lovely," I mumbled. Reyna glared at me. "Do you want me to continue or not?" I waved her on.

"She actually did turn Percy into a guinea pig, and plopped him in a cage with Blackbeard and his pirates—they were turned into those fluffy mammals about three hundred years prior or so. Percy Jackson, apparently, had a bottle full of Mercury's multivitamins, and he had Annabeth dump them into the cage by _squeaking_. She dumped the whole bottle into the cage and all the guinea pigs nibbled on it, and then...well, needless to say, they all came back to their human form. Percy and Annabeth escaped on Blackbeard's boat and left the pirates to ransack Circe's place." Reyna shivered. "Me and my sister, we were held captive by Blackbeard for months..."

I winced. "So...how did you get out of their clutches?"

Reyna shrugged. "Our mother, Bellona, was a goddess of war. We found out that we were pretty good at fighting, and eventually, the pirates came to 'respect' us. We ran away, and when we got to California, we parted ways. I went to Camp Jupiter, and my sister..." She frowned, lost in thought. "Last I heard from her, she just became queen of the Amazons." Reyna gave a look at Percy and Annabeth. "Oh, well. I've let go of the situation, but I think that my sister has wanted to kill Percy and Annabeth for the past few years. She actually spent months after I came to camp, trying to find them so that she could kill them. She never found them, though, and eventually made her way to the Amazons. She's been there ever since."

I stared down at my empty plate. "That was..."

"Interesting?" Reyna suggested.

"Horrifying," I squeaked. Reyna punched me.


	7. Half Bloods, Meet A Half Blood

**Chapter Seven**  
><em><span>Harry<span>_

"Today's not bad...outside all morning," said Ron, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures...damn it, we're still with the Slytherins..."

"Well, what did you expect?" I asked. I glanced at my schedule and groaned. "Aw...we have Double Divination this afternoon..."

Divination was my least favorite subject, apart from Potions. Professor Trelawney kept predicting my death, which I found extremely annoying. It didn't boost my morale, either.

"You should have given it up like me, shouldn't you?" said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."

Ron snorted. "Arithmancy? Worst subject there is."

"No, actually, it's quite interesting," Hermione said.

"But it's the hardest subject," Ron complained, as if he knew what is was like and as if it had explained everything. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You're eating again, I notice," said Ron, watching Hermione smearing liberal amounts of jam to her toast too.

"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," said Hermione haughtily.

"Yeah...and you were hungry," said Ron, grinning.

Hermione scowled. "Oh...just shut up, will you?"

There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, I looked up, but there was no sign of white among the mass of brown and gray. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. A large tawny owl soared down to Neville Longbottom and deposited a parcel into his lap—Neville almost always forgot to pack something. On the other side of the Hall Draco Malfoy's eagle owl had landed on his shoulder, carrying what looked like his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in my stomach, I returned to his porridge. Was it possible that something had happened to Hedwig, and that Sirius hadn't even got his letter?

"Hey—what's that thing?" Ron pointed to a humongous bird that had soared in and deposited something on the blond guy's lap. About a second later, a large, black flying horse rammed through the window, shattering the glass and landing next to the guy with green eyes.

Hermione squinted at the creatures and turned her attention back to her toast. "Giant eagles and a _pegasus_, I suppose. They're popular figures in Greco-Roman mythology. I think that there's some _pegasi_ in the Forbidden Forest."

"What?" Ron asked, sounding entirely lost. "What's 'Greasy-Romaine mythology'? Wait, what's mythology?"

Hermione waved her piece of toast impatiently in the air. "Mythology is a set of stories, traditions, or beliefs associated with a particular group or the history of an event, arising naturally or deliberately fostered, like 'the Fascist mythology of the interwar years.' And it's not 'Greasy-Romaine', it's 'Greco-Roman' mythology, relating to the myths of Ancient Greece and Rome."

If it were possible, I'd say that Ron looked even more confused then he did a minute ago. To prevent Hermione from lecturing him even more, he said uncertainly, "Yeah, sure. I get it."

"Good." Hermione frowned at her toast and set it down. "Though, it did seem rather strange that they would be seen delivering mail...oh, come on, it's time for Herbology!"

Here, I was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the ugliest plants I had ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.

"That is _nasty_!" he heard one of his fellow Gryffindors murmur in revulsion.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly, sternly glancing at Seamus Finnigan. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus—"

"The what?" said Seamus Finnigan, sounding even more disgusted.

"Pus, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

The blond guy from breakfast raised his hand. "Exactly what does this...er, _bubotuber pus_ do? Like, what's the purpose of it? Why is it so valuable?"

"An excellent question," Professor Sprout conceded. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."

Everybody around to the blond guy sniggered, excluding a girl with long black hair, who glared at all of them in turn.

Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. I saw a boy from the visitors wrinkling his nose. The rest of them just looked like they didn't see the point of squeezing pus out of sluggish plants, but they did it anyways. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints. "This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork.

A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signaling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Hufflepuffs climbing the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The visitors ran back into the castle, mumbling among themselves and knocking against the other group, who had just came out of the castle just as fast. They ran towards Hagrid's hut as well.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely.

As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions. I heard the girl with blue eyes mutter sleepily, "I've had _enough_ of baby Hyperborean giants already!"

"Excuse me?" The boy with green eyes seemed to be trying not to laugh. "Baby Hyperborean giants?"

"You're too nosy."

The blond girl intervened before a full-fledged argument could start. "Stop it! You've been like this the whole of...what did they call it, Potions!"

"Yes," the boy with shaggy black hair snickered, "and got detention from the greasy dude!"

"I'll give you detention, Death Boy!" the girl snapped.

The said "Death Boy" answered, "I'd like to see you try."

"I will send an arrow through your brain, and I swear on Styx that it will _not_ miss!" the girl threatened, all pretense of being tired gone.

"Death Boy" frantically looked around to hide behind someone, but I didn't see the point. The girl didn't seem to have any weapons on her, much less a bow and a set of arrows.

"Mornin'!" Hagrid said, grinning at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this—Blast-Ended Skrewts!"

The blond girl stared at the crates like she was judging whether or not they were worth opening.

"Come again?" said Ron.

Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

"Eurgh!" squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backward. "Eurgh" just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts in my opinion. They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small _phut_, it would be propelled forward several inches.

"Well," "Death Boy" meekly said, "they're not Hyperborean giants, that's for sure."

"On your father's underpants, shut up, will you?" the girl irritably answered.

That seemed like a strange remark to make, but nothing about them seemed to be normal.

"On'y jus' hatched," said Hagrid proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

"And why would we want to raise them?" said a cold voice.

The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Draco Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words.

Hagrid looked stumped at the question.

"I mean, what do they do?" asked Malfoy. "What is the point of them?"

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things - I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer—I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake - just try 'em out with a bit of each."

"First pus and now this," muttered Seamus.

Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made me, Ron, and Hermione pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts. I couldn't suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the skrewts didn't seem to have mouths.

The guy with green eyes blinked, staring at the creatures. "Well..." he weakly optimized, "this is cake compared to killing hellhounds. Right?"

"Give me a _dracana_, any day," the girl with blue eyes said dismissively, rolling her up sleeves. "Whatever, though."

"Ouch!" yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. "It got me."

Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.

"Its end exploded!" said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," said Hagrid, nodding.

"Huh..." The blonde frowned at the shiny red mark. "I've got something for that...I think." She rummaged through a backpack that just appeared out of nowhere. She began tossing things out—a book that was written in some squiggly language here, a baggie full of yellow pastry squares there. She hastily wiped her hands on a piece of felt and continued rummaging.

"Don't even attempt to eat them," the girl said, finally shoving the baggie and book and numerous other objects into her backpack (she had noticed Ron staring at them) while bringing out a small box. She smeared some green salve onto Dean's hand, and he sighed with relief. "Wow...what is that stuff?"

The girl tossed the box into her backpack. "A burn medicine," she vaguely answered. She quickly turned back to dropping slimy frog liver into the box to feed the Blast-Ended Skrewts, leaving no more time for any questions.

"Eurgh!" said Lavender Brown again. "Eurgh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?"

"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). "I reckon they're the males...The females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies...I think they might be ter suck blood."

"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," said Malfoy sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?"

"Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful," Hermione snapped. "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?"

Me and Ron grinned at Hagrid, who gave them a furtive smile from behind his bushy beard. Hagrid would have liked nothing better than a pet dragon, as Ron, me, and Hermione knew only too well—he had owned one for a brief period during their first year, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norbert. Hagrid simply loved monstrous creatures, the more lethal, the better.

"We do!" "Death Boy" enthused. He sat up, flicking some bits of leftover grass snake onto the grass. "He's totally awesome! He guards Thalia's pine tree—"

"You have a pet dragon?" Malfoy said, looking horrified.

"Well," the girl with blue eyes amended "Death Boy's" statement, shooting a dirty look at him, "more like it's the whole camp's. Uh, the place that we come from."

Hermione whispered, "What's the point of keeping a pet dragon to guard a tree? How did they even get a dragon in the first place?"

Ron shrugged, depositing some ant eggs into the crate. A skrewt slowly crawled away from it. "Dunno, and I don't really care."

"Well, at least the skrewts are small," I said as we made their way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.

"They are now," said Hermione in an exasperated voice, "but once Hagrid's found out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long."

"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?" said Ron, grinning slyly at her.

"You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up," said Hermione. "As a matter of fact I think he's right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all."

WE sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped ourselves to lamb chops and potatoes. Hermione began to eat so fast that Ron and I stared at her.

"What—" I began, but I never got a chance to finish as a pair of elbows slammed down on our table. The guy with green eyes stood there. "I bet that you're still pondering over the dragon, huh?"

"What?" Ron asked, clearly mystified. "What are you doing at our bloody table?"

The boy ignored his question and stuck out his hand, nudging a beef casserole aside. "Percy Jackson, at your service."

"Percy!" a bunch of voices instantly chorused a moment after he said that. The rest of Percy's group filed behind him.

"You run off too much," somebody complained. "We can never keep track of you!"

"That's a good thing!" a boy with mischievous features exclaimed. "Although I admit, you need to work on your thieving skills."

"Travis!" the blond girl reprimanded. Travis grinned as a response.

"Why don't you introduce yourselves?" Percy innocently suggested to his friends. They looked at me, Ron, and Hermione, and then stared at Percy as if he was a rotting Blast-Ended Skrewt. The blonde, "Death Boy", and the girl with blue eyes looked especially annoyed.

"You, Perseus Jackson," the blue-eyed girl said, "are incredibly stupid at times."

"Ha!" "Death Boy" snorted. "Understatement. He's stupid _most_ of the times!"

Ron leaned towards me and asked in an undertone, "Why did I get myself into this mess?"


	8. Linen Pajamas

**So right now, I'm like, WHOA. When did I publish this...about two, three weeks ago? At this moment, I've got 1,121 visitors and 3,322 hits, and...well, that's mind-boggling to me. I thank all of you for Story Alerting:  
><strong>4QuidditchIRideMyDragon, AliCloud, Aliina, Asuka Sakura-chan, cheech98, darkeangel15, Dov5e, Eleos **(:D where's your other Fanpop account?)**, EmmetAndAliceCullenRule2, Emories, FallenAngel10086, Faultless to a Fault, Flowelle, Galaxia's Star Seed, GillRocks, harrypottergirl123, Jenna A. L. Marie, Kalanna Dae, LunaBeth203, Maryfer7, Master of Ice and Wuji Grey, mischiefmanagedx, MizuKitsune10, Nightrain97, nywd, Oregon Rain, Percyjacksongirl123, QueenHallow, r0si3e, S. M. Raleigh, ShawdowOfMyLight, Softballfreak11, SonOfHades22, sportschic5646, sstabeler, the2ndsuperchick, Vans321, and Violet911.  
><strong>Story Favoriting:<br>**AmuletMermaid, Astrella Lynn Kurosaki, DalekDavros, darkeangel15, FallenAngel10086, harrypottergirl123, HiddenDemigod, Kirino Tsuki, Kittendancer, LunaBeth203, Maryfer7, Master of Ice and Wuji Grey, nandyroo94, nywd, r0si3e, ., S. M. Raleigh, SeanHicks4, ShawdowOfMyLight, Sleepyreader319 (nice username!), SonOfHades22, sstabeler, Sword-Master07, Violet911, and yellow-fang.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter Eight<span>  
><strong>_Thalia_

The fun thing about learning the History of Magic class is that we've got a ghost for a teacher that's too scared of Nico to do anything.. So we just spend the whole class writing random stuff in Ancient Greek, Percy writing: _I killed my grandpa!_

When Professor Binns had "conquered" his fear of Nico, he was droning in a dry, wheezy voice. Sure, his monotone was enough to put anybody to sleep, but we were actually talking about how the Greek and Roman gods were relevant to magic, and I am pleased to say that he got almost every single fact wrong.

"So," Binns wheezed weakly, "make sure you take your notes! Let's begin on Asgard, the home of the Olympian gods..."

Annabeth's mouth had dropped open in indignation right as a girl with bushy brown hair, Hermione, I remembered from lunch shot her hand up like a rocket achieving liftoff.

"Er, Professor?" Hermione asked. "I...the Olympian gods lived on _Olympus_, not Asgard. Asgard was the mythological home of the Norse gods."

"Yes, Miss Gorganzo," Binns said impatiently. "That's what I meant. The Asgardian gods lived on Olympus, and their king was Ra, god of ribbons..."

Hermione's hand shot up again to correct Binns on the number of facts that he got wrong: "Um, Professor, the Asgardian gods lived on Asgard, not Olympus. The Olympian gods lived on Olympus, and Ra was the king of the Egyptian gods and the god of the sun, not ribbons. The ruler of the Olympian gods was Zeus, the god of lightning."

This whole class was particularly interesting, with Hermione's hand shooting up three times every fifteen seconds to correct Binns on a fact that he had gotten wrong. If it were up to me, I would just have Nico shoo the ghost out of here and have Hermione speak.

By the end of the lesson, Binns had assigned us a twenty-inch essay on what the "similarities between our magical world and the Olympian gods" were. Annabeth raised her hand and pointed out that the Olympian gods had absolutely nothing to do with magic, other then Hecate, who was the _goddess_ of magic. Binns had replied: "Nonsense, Miss Chairs! Would you like to write the whole essay in Greek?" he added sarcastically.

Annabeth brightened considerably at that prospect. "Sure!" she instantly agreed. Annabeth being Annabeth, she actually did write a fifty-inch (about thirty-five...no, fourteen...um, never mind, a lot more then she was supposed to write) essay on how the Olympians were not related to magic in any single way in Ancient Greek, no less. Since Binns couldn't actually read Greek, much less the ancient form of the script, he couldn't say anything against Annabeth, who ended up getting a big fat "**Outstanding**" on her essay. The rest of us demigods got "**Troll**", which I was magic speak for "_You failed/sucked_". Ah, well, I wasn't expecting more then a "**F-**", anyways, so I just stuffed it into my pack, which I found a couple of years later when Artemis asked for a flint stone.

"So," Nico asked, reclining on a sofa. "What's the Potions homework again? Not that I'm planning on doing it; I'll just copy off of Annabeth..."

"You will do _no such thing_!" the said girl scowled, straitening from where she was writing her "Muggle Studies" homework, and I was pretty sure "Muggle" was a nice way of saying "you have no 'magical' blood". I leaned over and saw a bunch of complicated formulas and symbols. "Annabeth, what in _Hades' gym shorts_ are you writing? Is that a function?"

Annabeth looked at her essay. "Hmm? Oh, this? It's actually called 'math', Thals. See?"

She pointed at a large graph with what I can only describe as a lot of dots and lines. "Um...sure. Do you have anything that _won't_ kill my brain like that?"

Annabeth pulled out her Potions essay. "You can read this, can you?"

I scanned over it and frowned. "This Professor Snape said that you could write in Ancient Greek? And exactly what are 'Battywart Wings'?"

"He's a good teacher," Annabeth said in surprise. "You know, he's a son of Athena? He just has black hair, and his eyes are a really dark shade of gray. He said that all of us could write in Greek!"

Percy gagged behind his girlfriend's back. "Did you just say 'son of Athena'? I would think that he's Nico's bro."

"Hey!" Nico swatted the son of Poseidon. "Shut up!"

"Whatever you say," Percy muttered, rolling his eyes.

Nico smugly settled back on his couch. "Gods on Olympus, this is so comfortable!"

Percy edged towards Annabeth. "Hey, uh, can I borrow this for a sec?" He snatched the paper and fled up the stairs to the Poseidon section.

"Ha!" Annabeth laughed in an undertone to me. "He didn't grab my Potions essay; he took my Transfiguration one!"

"Great," I said impatiently. "Annabeth, what are the Egyptian gods?"

Annabeth's quill scratched on the parchment/paper. "Uh...yeah, what about them? Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I don't know," I sarcastically said, jabbing a finger at the window. "Maybe because a bunch of people in linen pajamas are banging the wall below our window? One of them is waving a boomerang. That's related to Ancient Egypt, right? Do I still remember my Social Studies lessons from elementary school correctly?"

"No," Annabeth said, poring over her essay and measuring it out. "Boomerangs? Those are traditional in Australia." She frowned out of the window. "Although, it _is_ rather strange that one of them is holding an Egyptian-styled sword..."

"Oh, good!" Dumbledore climbed into our common room. "It seems that our third group has arrived!"

Annabeth's quill landed with a thud on the ground. "Um...how did you get in here? And what do you mean by 'third group'? You said that only five champions would be selected."

Dumbledore smiled at her and drew an exact replica of our key out of his robes. "Yes, because you and your Roman..._friends_ are considered as one group."

The way Dumbledore said "friends", I wondered how long it would take for both of us to kill each other.

"Sure," Nico said, swinging his legs off the couch. "Who are they?"

"Egyptians," Dumbledore promptly said, striding over to the window and unlatching it. He peered outside and said, "I must go down to invite them in. Until later, demigods." He hurried out of the room.

"Now, that was awkward," Annabeth said, completely mystified.

Percy came staggering out of the Poseidon section, a crazy grin on his face. He slapped Annabeth's "Potions" essay in front of her. "Finished and done!" he exclaimed. "I'll finally get that '**O**' on a homework assignment!"

"I seriously doubt that," Annabeth muttered under her breath. "Tyche would be on your side if you were to get a passing grade."

"Tyche?" Percy frowned, wiping his forehead while cramming a piece of parchment in his pack. "Who's that?"

"Goddess of luck," Annabeth said, turning her attention back to her homework. "I believe that her Roman equivalent is Fortuna. The Romans hold a festival for her every year, as in 'The Feast of Fortuna'."

"And you know this because...?" I questioned.

Annabeth shrugged, the movement causing her to smear some ink on the page. She cursed in Ancient Greek and scribbled out the noticeable blot of ink on the word "hinkypunk". "I just read it in a book, okay? Shouldn't that be obvious?"

"Sure," Nico said, slapping his hand on the chair arm for no apparent reason. "You know, whatever you say, Annabeth. You're the expert; you do the planning, Percy follows your orders. Otherwise, we would all have been dead three years ago."

I glowered at Percy. "He already messed up a billion times before. _For instance, the time when you ran off to face Thorn by yourself!_"

Percy raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry!"

Annabeth sighed, pushing her essay away from her. "I give up on this for now..." She yawned and stretched. "Ra, Isis, Horus...they were some of the major ones."

"What?" Nico asked in bewilderment, "are you talking about?"

"I was answering Thalia's question from when she asked me earlier," Annabeth replied tiredly. She sat down next to Nico. "She asked what the Egyptian gods were."

"And exactly _why_ does that matter to our well-being?" Percy irritably asked.

"There were a couple of people outside our window wearing linen robes while you were ransacking my...er, 'Potions' essay," Annabeth said. "Thalia here apparently thought that they were Egyptians—"

"Hey, I was right!" I protested.

"Yeah," Annabeth muttered, disgruntled at the fact that they weren't Australians. "Anyways, they're Egyptians. Joy to the world; let's bring out the party favors already."


	9. The Games

**Chapter Nine**  
><em><span>Carter<span>_

"I hate portals," I grumbled, running a hand through my hair. "They're so sandy!"

Sadie rolled her eyes as she shoved her staff back into the Duat—after a lot of swearing and cursing in Egyptian. "And you _wondered_ why I called you Captain Obvious?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "Pretty much. Hey, where are we, anyways?" Looking around, I could see a humongous castle to our west, dark woods that looked quite scary to our north, a lake to our east, and gates to our south.

"The things I do for you," Sadie grumbled, "and you don't even know where I'm _taking you_. Perfect. That just makes my day."

"You're welcome," I answered. Meanwhile, Sadie was having her own preoccupations with this place. She pointed up towards a large window where an old man seemed to be peering down at us. "Who's he?" she asked as the man disappeared from the window.

"Professor Dumbledore," Jaz promptly answered. "Didn't you read the letter?"

"There was a letter?" Sadie cluelessly asked. "What letter? The last one that we got was that one that had a squeaky Menshikov bobblehead—"

"No," Jaz patiently said. "You know, the one with heavy yellow parchment? There was green ink on it."

"Oh..." Sadie still looked lost, but she answered, "All right. Sure, I remember seeing it." I was pretty sure that she was just saying that so that she wouldn't have to suffer through listening to the details of the letter, but I decided to keep my mouth shut.

"You are so strange," I told Sadie a couple of minutes later when the great wooden doors began to creak open. Sadie swatted at me and hissed, "And you think you aren't?"

"Welcome to Hogwarts!" The tall old man that we saw peeking out of the window earlier smiled at us. He spoke with a British accent, very much like Sadie's when she just came to the States.

"Wait a second." Sadie stifled a laugh. "Did you just say 'Hogwarts'? As in 'warty hogs'?"

"Oh, no!" "Dumbledore" said. "It's the name of this castle!"

Sadie slouched, her enthusiasm deflated by this point. "Oh. Yes, I knew that."

"Sure you did," I said sincerely. "That's why you look as lost as a demon asking for directions to the nearest donut shop."

"Well..." Dumbledore beckoned us inside with a hand. "Come in!"

* * *

><p>"No doubt that this is <em>the<em> weirdest place I have ever seen," Walt weakly said as we stepped into the castle.

Dumbledore turned to us, his bright blue eyes twinkling. "Yes, it's a shocker, isn't it? You'll meet your compatriots in a few moments."

"Our _what_?" Jaz asked uncertainly. "Compatriots?"

"Oh, yes!" Dumbledore studied us. Then, he smiled. "Oh, I suppose that your tutors don't tell you all about the _other_ mythologies, do they?"

Everybody that Sadie and I brought with us stared at us with incredulous eyes. Sadie frowned. "What? We're not keeping anything from you; we're just as confused as you are!"

As soon as Sadie said that, voices began to resonate throughout a marble staircase that I had just noticed. Somebody with a slurred voice was saying: "LeggoohmeReynaIcawal!" I directly translated that to: "Let go of me, Reyna, I can walk!"

"You're drunk on Kool-Aid," a sharp female voice answered. "You're _always_ drunk on Kool-Aid."

"Whaaa?" A ragtag group of kids emerged from the stairs, and a boy in a red-speckled purple T-shirt was being supported by a girl with long, black hair, who didn't look the least bit happy to be doing what she was doing.

A blond boy blinked at us. "Who're you?"

Somebody called from our group, "We could ask to same thing to you!"

"This is insanity!" a scarecrow-thin blond boy cried. "Why are we down here in the middle of the night?"

"Proper introductions!" Dumbledore sternly gazed at the boy. "Where are your, er, friends?"

The first blond boy glanced behind his back and said without any enthusiasm, "They're here...I think."

We stared at the marble staircase in awkward silence until a faint thump caught Sadie's attention. She instantly jumped back into me, effectively knocking both of us down as people in a bizarre tangle fell down the stairs unceremoniously. There was a dull _crack_ and _clunk_ as a piece of bronze metal whacked somebody on the head, and then bounced on the floor.

"Ouch—Percy, your leg is over my face—"

"Get _off_, Fish Face, or I swear on my father's throne that I'll kill you after I get out of this mess—"

"My hairdo is ruined!"

"You're squashing my neck, Nico!"

"Stop punching me, Clarisse!"

"Don't connect your foot to my nose!"

"I didn't mean to!"

While the group in the purple T-shirts just heavily sighed and glared at the writhing knot of people, Sadie got off of me sheepishly and whispered, "They're highly caffeinated."

"Jeez, Sadie," I said, feigning surprise. "You though that they were in a state of depression?"

Dumbledore pulled a stick out of his robes pocket and waved it. The mess of people instantly "untangled", each of them bright red in the face.

"I am so going to murder you," a girl muttered to nobody in particular.

"Well!" Dumbledore said cheerfully, although it sounded a bit forced. "Since all of our groups are here, why don't we make some introductions?"

I stepped forwards since everybody, including our own little group, was staring at me like they expected me to do a flip or something. "Um...I'm Carter Kane."

"You were the one that was waving the boomerang!" somebody from the orange group immediately accused.

"What?" I asked, confused, but then I saw that she was staring at Sadie. Sadie huffed, her face bright red. "It's a _wand_, not a boomerang!"

"Don't worry," I told the people, "she compared that to a boomerang once, too."

"Hey! You weren't supposed to tell them that!" Sadie whacked me upside the head. I rubbed my jawline, wincing as I touched the heart of a blossoming bruise. It hadn't helped that she was still holding her "boomerang".

"And that's my sister, Sadie," I addressed everybody. "She's lost a few of her marbles, so don't be surprised if she goes crazy on you—ouch! Stop it!"

"I am _not_ a mentally retarded person!" Sadie snapped.

"I never said that you were!" I protested. I earned another bruise right over my funny bone for my futile efforts. After that hit, I let Sadie do the introductions to spare myself the trouble of breaking a few bones.

"So..." a boy with green eyes said from the orange group after Sadie had finished. "Um...I'm Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon."

"Who's 'Poseidon'?" Felix called. "Is he, like, the god of penguins? I would totally want to meet him!"

"Um, no," Percy said, blushing. "He's the god of the sea and everything that lives inside it. And he's also called the 'Earthshaker'. And the 'Stormbringer'. And the 'Father—'"

"We get the point, knucklehead!" all the girls from his group yelled simultaneously. Jaz nudged Walt and mumbled in his ear, "Do they go to anger management classes?"

"Sure," Percy grumbled. "Whatever. Gang up on the boy, will you?"

"Oh, shut up," one of them muttered.

"Anyways," Percy said, "we're from Camp Half-Blood..." He swallowed as he glanced self-consciously at the glowering females. "I'll let...uh, everybody else introduce themselves."

"I'm Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena," a blond girl said. "And no, she is _not_ the goddess of penguins, thanks," she added, seeing Felix's mouth open, and then closing sheepishly.

The rest of them introduced themselves one by one. There was a beefy girl with stringy brown hair that looked like she wanted to eat you for breakfast called "Clarisse", and apparently, her father was "Ares", the god of war. That was completely understandable. I wondered if Horus knew this "Ares" dude.

After the kids in purple had introduced themselves, Dumbledore clapped his hands. "Now, over the next few days, you will be playing several games against the whole school."

A girl from the orange group, although she wasn't exactly wearing orange, said, "I'm not good at arithmetic, but I'm pretty sure that a thousand-plus students here doesn't equal the meager amount of people we have here."

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Well, you'll change your mind later. We will be playing your version of Capture the Flag the first day—"

"Cool!" Nico di Angelo said enthusiastically. "I can finally summon skeletons and actually _scare_ other people besides the Aphrodite cabin!"

"Hey!" Drew screeched, hitting him with a Juicy Couture handbag.

"Whoa. What a second," Jason Grace from Camp Jupiter said. "What's _your_ version of Capture the Flag?"

"Well," Annabeth started, "the whole point of the game is to capture the other team's flag, like the mortal Capture the Flag. However, you are highly advised to put on armor, bring your weapons, and don't kill the other team. All magic items are allowed. The banner must be prominently displayed, and have no more than two guards. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged. No killing or maiming is allowed."

"Too bad," Rory ("centurion", whatever that means, of the "Second Cohort" at Camp Jupiter) grunted. "The game wouldn't have been half-bad if that were the case."

"It's fun once you actually get the flag," Percy muttered. "If you don't have the bad luck to be put out as _bait_." He threw a pointed look at Annabeth, who rolled her eyes. "It totally worked, so don't complain."

I raised my hand. "How are we going to get armor?"

Dumbledore answered that question. "Chiron and Lupa are sending in quite a few supplies for these games. You will also get one wizard or witch from each House on your team as well. Now, the second day, you and the school will be versing each other again, but this time, it will be one of the Romans' war games. To be specific, Siege."

Jason sighed. "Are we defending or attacking?"

"Defending," Dumbledore replied, earning several groans from the "Romans". "The third and final day, we have cleared an area of the forest just for this. You must talk with each other to see who will be on your Quidditch team."

"Quidditch?" Sadie asked nervously. "What's that?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play."

"Encouraging," Thalia Grace said, turning a light shade of green.

"There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers. They throw the Quaffle around—which is a medium-sized red ball—and try and get it through one of the hoops—there are three of them—to score a goal. A team gains ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops if their Chaser scored it.

"There's another player on each side who's called the Keeper. It is his or her job to prevent the other team from scoring the Quaffle in the goals.

"There are two black balls called the Bludgers. They try to knock players off their broomsticks."

"Wait, so they just whiz around like they're on a mad sugar rush?" Jaz asked. Dumbledore nodded, acknowledging the point. "An interesting way to put it, but yes, they zoom around as if they have a mind of their own.

"There are two Beaters on each team; it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team.

"Finally, there is a little ball that is gold-colored with wings. It is the Golden Snitch, and it's the Seeker's job to catch it. It's worth one hundred fifty points, and when a Seeker from either competing side catches it, the game is over, and the team who's Seeker caught the Snitch nearly always wins because of the extra points."

"So, do we just run around on foot?" Reyna asked incredulously. Dumbledore frowned. "Of course, I forgot to mention the most important fact...you do Quidditch on flying broomsticks."

Percy loudly snickered as Thalia turned as white as snow. "E-excuse m-m-me?" She gulped. "Did you just say...'flying broomsticks'?"

"Why?" Jason asked, "what's wrong? You know, you should be on the team..."

Percy started full-out laughing as Thalia collapsed on the spot at the thought of "flying on broomsticks".


	10. Capture the Flag

**Chapter Ten**  
><em><span>Harry<span>_

"Why are we being herded towards the _Forbidden Forest_, of all places?" Hermione asked indignantly as McGonagall continued trying to shoo Lavender Brown towards the forest.

I shrugged. "Dunno why...don't you think that I would have told you, Hermione?"

"No," Hermione muttered as we crossed into the dark woods. "You and Ron have an annoying habit of telling me useless stuff and keeping all the important information from me!"

"No, we don't!" Ron cried indignantly, spewing crumbs everywhere while waving a rather large croissant in the air. "It's exactly the opposite!"

We tramped along the mossy and leafy floor for a while in silence. Ron broke it and pointed towards a faint light that was ahead. "What do you reckon that light ahead is—Merlin's beard!"

We had stumbled into a large clearing, with a crystal-clear stream running through the center.

Ahead, I could see Percy and his companions, Jason and his friends, and an entirely new group that was wearing something that suspiciously looked like linen pajamas.

"As usual," McGonagall scolded, "we are the last ones here! Hermione Granger, come forwards!"

Hermione gave a muffled squeak next to me as all heads turned to her. Looking around, I could see that Patty Parkinson **[A.N./ Did I freaking get her name right?]**, a seventh-year Ravenclaw whose name I didn't know, and Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff had been called up as well.

"Ms. Granger!" McGonagall called again. "Please come forwards!"

"Well, go on, then," Ron whispered, his face white. He gave Hermione a small nudge, and she involuntarily ran to the professor.

McGonagall bent down and started giving Hermione instructions. Hermione's head was tilted quizzically, but once McGonagall pointed towards the small knot of campers and linen pajama people, Hermione shakily walked towards them. I noticed that the other Hogwarts students that were called up were also heading towards the campers.

I nudged Ron, who was scowling. "What's up with that?"

My answer was answered a second later when Dumbledore clapped his hands. Talking immediately ceased.

"Today, we will be playing a game of what mortals call 'Capture the Flag'!" I saw Malfoy wrinkle his nose.

"It will be the whole of Hogwarts against our visitors—and no, Mr. Weasley, I'm not kidding."

George Weasley put his hand down.

"One student from each House has been chosen randomly to join the visitors' team," Dumbledore continued. "I will let Camp Half-Blood take it from there."

Camp Half-Blood...that was Percy's group, right?

Percy stepped forwards. "All right!" he yelled. "Each of you will receive a suit of armor and a weapon of your choice!"

"_Armor_?" somebody from the Slytherins indignantly screamed, whom I recognized as Malfoy. Leave it to him to complain. "How do you expect us to wear _armor_?"

Percy pointed to a humongous pile of sets gleaming bronze metal that was sitting at the edge of the clearing. "That's what you're wearing."

The whole clearing burst out into pandemonium, with all the Hogwarts students screaming and throwing twigs and even their wands at each other.

"_SHUT UP_!" Thalia's voice rang through the clearing. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but I heard a loud rumble of thunder roll through the clear sky. Everybody immediately froze in their positions.

"Do you want me to send an arrow through your gut?" Thalia glowered at Malfoy, who still looked defiant. "My father—"

"I couldn't care _less_ about you, but I will _guarantee_ that you will _die_ if you don't put on a set of armor!" Thalia snapped, jabbing a finger at the armor. "And that goes for everybody else! So just go and get a—" Thalia said a word so bad that I was sure that Snape would have made her lick frogs for a whole month. Surprisingly, the Potions master didn't comment on the profanity. Thalia muttered something else, and I saw quite a few people on her team flinch.

Everybody tripped over their feet in their eagerness to get a suit of armor.

"_Vlacas_," I heard her hiss in exasperation.

"Anyways," Percy weakly said, trying to get back into control. "Capture the Flag is basically a game where you try to...um, capture the other team's flag."

"The title is pretty self-explanatory, don't you think?" one of the girls in linen pajamas pointed out.

"Anyways," Percy said hurriedly, "you can have only two guards to your flag. No killing or maiming is allowed." He raised an eyebrow at Thalia, who just punched him and told him in an irritated tone to keep on going.

"And in this case," Percy added, "wands are allowed, although a wider variety of weapons is available." He indicated to another pile that shimmered into existence. Swords and daggers were in neat rows, bows and quivers of arrows in a pile, so on so forth.

"The...er, professors will serve as 'battlefield medics'," Percy continued, "in case somebody gets seriously hurt for some reason or another. But don't worry; that usually doesn't happen."

"Usually," I noted to Ron, who was as pale as a bed sheet by now. "Not reassuring, eh?"

"You're not reassuring _me_, Harry!" Ron muttered back.

"Hogwarts is on the red team, which takes the woods on the east side of the creek." Percy pointed to the side that we were on. "We, on the other hand, take the west woods. We're on the blue team. And that's pretty much the rules. The game will start in a few minutes, so take your pick of weapons if you want any, and take them quickly. The game starts when you hear the horn blow!" He and his team disappeared into the dark confines of the woods.

Hogwarts began streaming towards our part of the woods, and Ron and I were caught along with the flow.

"Oi!" Ron grunted, heaving on his armor. "This bloody thing is heavy!"

It was true. I felt like I was being crushed under Hogwarts itself. "No kidding," I groaned.

"Yeah, well," Ron said, wiggling his eyebrows at me. "We'll _die_ if we don't wear it. I'm not sure if I want one of her arrows sticking through my stomach."

A loud blast boomed through the forest, and I supposed that that was the "horn".

"So...what do we do?" I nervously asked, pulling out my wand.

Ron frowned. "Uh...I don't know...try to get the flag?"

I could already hear the faint sounds of combat as wands and swords clashed together. "All right," I agreed. "We don't have anything better to do. Let's find their flag. It should be blue, right?"

* * *

><p>After what was probably half an hour of searching, Ron grabbed my arm excitedly. "Harry, look!" He pointed to an opening in the forest, and lo and behold, was the blue flag. There were not guards whatsoever.<p>

Ron chuckled as he rushed out into the open before I could stop him. I ran and caught up to him, stopping him a second before he was about to touch the flag.

"Hermione may have put up some wards," I warned Ron. "Maybe the other Hogwarts students on the blue team, too."

Ron frowned as he stared at his hand, which was an inch away from the flag. He raised his wand and called, "_Specialis Revelio_!"

Nothing happened. Ron whooped and grabbed the flag. That's when things went wrong.

"Got it!" Ron turned around triumphantly to face a hooded figure that was holding a bronze sword.

"Did you honestly think that it would be that easy?" I heard somebody laugh, but it wasn't a friendly laugh. It was more of a "I've-got-you-now!" laugh. The cold tip of a blade touched my neck.

"Really," Percy mildly said, pulling off the hood of his cloak without removing the tip of the sword from Ron's right wrist.

"Maybe I should have said '_Homenum Revelio_'," Ron weakly said.

"No idea what you're talking about," Thalia said from behind me. Yeah, she was the one who was about to cut my head off. "But it's a bit late for that, don't you think?"

She caught me staring at her knife. "I'm not going to drive it through your neck!" she grumbled. "It's called, 'both of you are our prisoners now'."

"No!" A horde of Hogwarts students crashed through the trees. Percy and Thalia glanced at each other. It was obvious they weren't expecting such a large crowd.

"Oh, Styx," Percy muttered, readying his sword. "Where's the water?"

Thalia clamped a hand on his neck and pushed him down, dropping herself right when Ron shouted, "_Stupefy_!"

Percy scrambled up (having successfully avoided Ron's Stunning Spell) and walked towards the flag, still brandishing his sword. "You want it? You come and get it."

All the Hogwarts students roared and charged.

Both of the defenders began hacking and slicing. Instantly, some of the attackers dropped, clutching some part of their arm or leg that had been cut. Ron and I, forgotten in the pandemonium, looked at each other. "The flag," Ron whispered, pointing to the flag that was lying on the ground.

"I can't get through!" I hissed, indicating to Percy and Thalia. "They're in the way!"

"Well, we've got to do something fast, or else this will be—BLOODY HELL!"

Apparently, Percy had had enough, because he dropped his weapons and closed his eyes. Percy held out both of his hands.

"Surrendering?" somebody called.

"The exact opposite," Percy said as a rumbling sound echoed throughout the clearing. Thalia jumped into a low tree right when the tidal wave hit. I got submerged underwater and my head broke through the surface. My glasses were miraculously still on.

About a minute later, an arc of lightning raced down, striking the water and instantly electrocuting everybody who was touching the water. Sadly, that included me, and the last thing I remembered was that I this game was stupid.


	11. Cursing the Chanting

**Chapter Eleven**  
><em><span>Percy<span>_

"Don't you think that was a bit too destructive?" Thalia asked mildly as she surveyed the carnage we had caused. She rolled her eyes as a student weakly flopped like a fish.

"You electrocuted them," I pointed out, "so it's just as your fault as mine."

Thalia opened her mouth to argue but then decided against it, possibly because we were supposed to be guarding the flag and not arguing. Annabeth had been clear on that statement, and I didn't want to get on her bad side. Then, things tended to happen that weren't the least bit pleasant.

Thalia grabbed me. "Percy," she said dangerously, "where's that blasted flag?"

"It's right over..." My voice faltered as I stared at the empty spot where our flag was supposed to be. I swallowed and said really intelligently, "Uh..."

"Oh, Styx!" Thalia angrily impaled both of her knives into the ground in frustration. "All that trouble of guarding it, and it disappears under our noses?"

I frantically looked around and sighed with relief when I saw the tattered blue banner resting across a bed of thorn-bushes. "There," I said, pointing to the silk flag. "It's...right...over...there..."

Thalia scowled and snatched it up, stabbing it into the ground again. "I hate being on defense. It's so uneventful."

I indicated to the wet tangle of Hogwarts students around us. "You call _that_ uneventful?"

"Oh..." Thalia glared at me. "You know what I mean—_OH MY GODS_!" Thalia reeled back into me, knocking both of us down as a band of hellhounds and other nasty monsters stalked out of the shadows. I cursed and groped for Riptide, my hand closing around its familiar leather grip as I uncapped the pen.

Thalia was spewing out so many Ancient Greek and English curses that I was sure that if Artemis saw that, she would wash her lieutenant's mouth out with saddle soap for five years straight.

"I've been suspended for saying less that that," I commented unhelpfully as we both backed away from the slobbering doggies of doom and lady demons. My back hit an oak tree, and I flattened myself against it.

"All right, what are freaking _monsters_ doing in the United Kingdom?" Thalia snapped, drawing her bow.

"Well...that doesn't matter," I said as I raised Riptide. "Because if we don't act now, we're gonna become the world's two largest Milkbones."

"We'll set a world record?" Thalia asked as she kicked at a hellhound. "Is there _even_ a world record for—"

"Nobody cares!" I screamed, slashing a hellhound to dust. "Just help me and fight already! You wanted some action, you've got some!"

Thalia rolled her eyes but started firing arrows into the fray of monsters. "Perseus Jackson," she snapped, "I really hate it when you get all smart on me."

* * *

><p>"Well," Annabeth said, tired but cheerful two hours later, "we won!"<p>

She didn't seem to notice the fact that Thalia and I was in desperate need of a shower. We looked like we each had two billion sacks of whole wheat flour dumped onto us, and I blame the Aloadae. Supposedly, they were the two twins of mythology that imprisoned Ares in a bronze jar, a storage _pithos_. I liked that part. The part that I _didn't_ really like was the fact that they tried to overrun Olympus. As it was typical of monsters and Titans and Giants and whatnot to fail in killing the Olympians, they killed themselves. Sadly, they were monsters, which basically meant that they reform and all that other of that stupid stuff.

"Annabeth," Thalia said, brushing some "wheat germ" off her hair, "I am _never_ listening to another of your ideas again."

Annabeth blinked at her. "Why?"

"Well, let's see," Thalia sarcastically said, holding up three fingers. "One, putting me with Percy on guard has us bound to argue, no matter how much you tell us to pay attention to guarding the flag. Second, we're two children of the Big Three, and monsters just want to eat us at any cost. Third, have you noticed what has been dumped on both of us?"

"Um..." Annabeth took in the large amount of monster dust that I just shook out of my hair. "I didn't plan on that. How did monsters even get in here? Are there even monsters from Greek mythology in Europe?"

Thalia and I both glared at her.

"Never mind," Annabeth grumbled. "We have war games after this."

"What are 'war games'?" I quizzically asked as Thalia stomped towards our dormitory to get a shower. "Are they, like, games that include war?"

"A siege," Annabeth promptly answered, her gray eyes gleaming. "Remember what Dumbledore said? We're the defenders, Hogwarts are the attackers. Hogwarts, like in Capture the Flag, have to get our banner, but they have to get through this huge siege wall or whatever the Romans call it."

I gulped, "Ah...sounds fun."

"Yeah," Annabeth answered glumly, "I guess that Harry just can't wait to stab us in the back."

"Somehow," I replied, throwing my jacket onto the floor and brushing bits of monster off my arms, "I doubt that that will happen. It's just a game, right?"

"A really _dangerous_ game," Annabeth corrected. "But very true, it sounds really fun."

Meanwhile, Nico was dancing/marching around the dormitory, chanting like a Catholic priest: "I got the flag! I got the flag!"

"Nico," Clarisse growled, attempting to be nice. "We get the point. We heard you the first thousand times."

"I got the flag! I got the flag!"

"Nico..."

"I GOT THE FLAG! I GOT THE FLAG!"

Clarisse drew her sword and raised it.

"_I GOT THE FLAG! I GOT THE FLAG!_"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Thalia screamed, not attempting to be nice and subtle (like Clarisse did) while jumping down from the Artemis dormitory. Annabeth yelled it at the same time as Thalia in two-part harmony, although without the cursing/swearing part.

"_I GOT THE FLAG! THALIA CURSED! I GOT THE FLAG! THALIA CURSED! I GOT THE_—"

Thalia whacked him upside the head with Aegis as Clarisse brought the flat of her blade down on Nico's skull.

"Oh my gods!" Annabeth slapped both of them. "You could have killed him!"

Nico flopped an arm and croaked out before fainting, "I...got...the...flag..."

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah, maybe the cussing part was a bit strong...ah, well.<strong>


	12. Acrophobia

**Chapter Twelve  
><strong>_Jason_

"Bit grouchy last night, weren't you?" Percy teased a deprived-of-sleep Thalia. "You cursed!"

"Shut..."—Thalia yawned—"...up...acorns..." She continued, "I...am...never going to...do...guard...duty with...Percy Jackson...ever...again!"

"And Nico got the flag," I chimed in, smirking at Clarisse's expression. "What happened last night? We heard quite a lot of yelling, some nasty thwacks, and a bucket full of cursing."

"Ah," Annabeth said, indicating towards Nico, who's head was bruised. "He...uh, got in a bit of trouble with...um, his...companions..." She looked like she was trying to stifle a burst of laughter as Clarisse and Nico both glared at her.

"She nearly cracked my skull!" Nico immediately accused, pointing towards Clarisse, who snapped, "Maybe you shouldn't have kept on chanting: 'I got the flag! I got the flag!' Who cares?"

"Me!" Nico pouted.

"Other then you," Clarisse amended. Nico's shoulders slumped as he assumed what he probably thought was a pondering facial expression. It looked more like he enjoyed having an increasingly impatient daughter of Mars more, though.

"War games today!" Reyna said cheerfully, which was probably the one and only time I would ever hear her sound cheerful. "We're defending, right? And who's going to be on this Quidditch team?"

"Jason, obviously," Percy said. "He's the son of Zeus...er, to say, Jupiter. He could be that Seeker thingy-ma-bob."

I shrugged, not really caring whether I was on the team or not.

Bobby waved a hand. "Hey, Annabeth," he addressed his half-sister. "Your last name is 'Chase', right?"

"Don't even get me started," Annabeth answered in an annoyed tone of voice.

"Well, you can be one of the three Chasers!" Bobby suggested, leaning forwards on his table and spilling our margarine over. "The ones that chase around that big red soccer ball...the Quaffle, right? You get it, Annabeth? Chase: Chaser!"

"You are so bad at puns," Annabeth replied, not looking excited the least bit. "I'm not sure if I can handle flying on a broomstick..."

"You've handled a bunch of things that were more dangerous then flying on a long stick, Annabeth," Thalia muttered, propping her head up with a hand. "Like, for instance, stabbing a Cyclops on the big hairy toe when you were seven years old to save me, Luke, and Grover the trouble of getting eaten like smoked turkey legs."

I nodded, impressed. "You were seven, and you stabbed a Cyclops in the toe? I owe you one for saving my sister..."

"Don't say that," Thalia said, "she'll hold you to that promise. And you'll regret it when she asks you to take a math or physics or who-knows-what test. I've been there and done that, and it's _not_ fun."

"You sound like Seaweed Brain," Annabeth muttered, although her ears were a little pink.

"They would've been cousins if the gods had DNA," Reyna commented, setting her piece of toast down. "So yeah, I'd say they think similarly."

"You just insulted your fellow praetor," Gwen commented unhelpfully.

"Who says?" Percy asked, offended. "Poseidon's awesome, right, Nico?"

"Uh...no, not really." Nico apologetically looked at Percy. "I think that Hades is way better."

Percy looked crestfallen as he turned to Thalia. "Right?"

"Your head is full of kelp" was her answer. She sighed. "Although, that statue of Zeus is so grumpy-looking that I sometimes wish that I wasn't related to Zeus...humph. He looks like a really buff hippie."

The sky rumbled outside as I gaped at her. She didn't seem to notice the noise while she was picking at the trim of the white tablecloth.

"Okay," Dakota said, waving his Kool-Aid flask. "I can be the other Chaser, eh? Whaddya guys think?"

Reyna and I exchanged panicked looks. Knowing Dakota, he would probably just drink through the whole match and lose the game for us.

"Er...no, thanks, Dakota," I said hurriedly. "You can volunteer next time..."

Dakota shrugged. "Whatever you say, Jason. You're the praetor."

"I have an idea," Travis said, grinning wickedly as he subconsciously glanced at Thalia, who's head snapped up as soon as she heard Travis's voice.

"Why don't we let your sister be Keeper?" Travis asked me.

Everybody turned to look at Thalia. She glared at Percy, like, _I am _so_ going to kill you after this._ "No!" She immediately rejected the offer.

"Why not?" Travis asked, genuinely surprised. "I mean, Zeus is your dad and all..."

"No," Thalia snapped, intensifying her death glare at Percy, who said in a small voice, "Maybe we can...uh, find another Keeper..."

"I say yes," Annabeth said, not noticing Thalia's expression. "Your dad's the lord of the sky...what can go wrong when you're in the air?"

Thalia swallowed. "Uh..."

"Wait a second," Nico said, looking at her. "You freaked out on the sun car, too. You nearly broke my nose," he added as an afterthought.

I heard Thalia hiss in a low voice, "Percy, if I ever get out of this alive, you'll be wishing you were _never born_."

Percy looked alarmed at that statement and said, "Well, Pinecone doesn't want to, so...she doesn't have to do it, right?"

"Don't call me that."

"Okay, whatever...but still, it's her choice; if she doesn't want to do it, she doesn't have to."

"Oh my gods!" Nico shrieked, staring at Thalia, who was becoming increasingly pasty-faced. "That's what Percy meant! Do...do you have _acrophobia_?"

Thalia glared at Percy with such venom that Reyna whispered to me, "When do you reckon he's going to burn up?"

Annabeth gaped at her best friend. "Thalia..."

"Perseus Jackson," Thalia said through gritted teeth, "I am going to _kill_ you if you survive this day."

"It was a slip of the tongue!" Percy protested.

"Do you?" Nico asked in a small voice. When nobody answered him, he mumbled, "Ohmygodswhatishappening?"

Travis broke the tense silence by laughing his head off. "That is so funny!" he screeched, attracting the attention of many people in the Hall. "Your dad is Zeus, lord of the sky, and you're afraid of _heights_?"

"Travis," Annabeth snapped, "shut up."

"Whoa, what just happened?" Carter asked, coming over to our tables. His sister, Sadie trailed after him, muttering what sounded like spells under her breath. "What's so funny?"

Everybody looked at Thalia, who's face was as red as a tomato. "Don't. Even. Ask," she warned, "or you'll live to regret it!"

"And when she says that," Percy told Carter, "you either don't ask her, or if you do, you shut up immediately or pray to the god of your choice."

"I'll not ask," Carter said after a long period of silence which was only broken by Sadie's grumbling of how her iPod wouldn't work here. "So, who's going to be on this Quidditch team?"

"Jason's Seeker," Reyna said, "and we _think_ that Annabeth's going to be Chaser."

Annabeth sighed. "Whatever."

"Yeah, she will," Reyna amended. "And..." She subconsciously glanced at Thalia. "We're still debating whether Thalia should be Keeper or not. Why don't we vote?"

"Why am _I_ the subject of the vote?" a certain irritable Hunter's voice asked.

"Because on one hand, you're a daughter of Zeus," Percy said, "and on the other...well, yeah. Blind vote."

All of us instantly put our heads down. I could almost hear Thalia silently protesting as she counted hands.

"Dead," she proclaimed. "All of you who _voted_ for me being Keeper are _not_ going to live to see the daylight." She looked incredibly disgruntled as she explained that she _was_ going to be Keeper by popular vote.

"Awesome!" Connor cheered. "You're the best!"

He probably would have leaped up and hugged her if Thalia wasn't sending him a triple-deluxe, neatly packaged evil "ten". I had a feeling that I wouldn't be seeing either him or his twin tomorrow morning.


	13. Prima Ballerina

**AND A VERY HAPPY HALLOWEEN TO YOU GUYS! GET LOTSA CANDY! CHEERS! Sorry for the short chapter; I can't concentrate on this right now...hey, I have trick-or-treating on my mind as well!**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter Thirteen<span>  
><strong>_Jason_

"Oh, dammit!" I groaned as I saw the large mass of Hogwarts students milling around in their cloaks, squinting up at the fortress that Dumbledore had conjured up. "Even with a fort that size, we're never going to hold off against them! The sheer number of them...it's too large."

"An optimistic one you are," Bobby muttered as he tugged on his armor. "Don't be so pessimistic, Jason, it'll be fun! Remember Capture the Flag?"

"Yes," I said, "but we won that because, apparently, had never been on defense before together, and Annabeth wanted to see what would happen if they were keeping guard of the flag. It worked effectively, actually, but we can't do it in war games, you know..."

"Who says?" Gwen asked, coming over with her gold armor clanking. "We didn't bring a standard bearer. They could guard the banner or something..."

"Nah," I said. "They looked like they would kill each other when they came out of the forest...don't you remember?"

"Yeah, well..." Gwen shrugged. "Taking a shot at it. I missed, obviously. But who's going to be the guarding the banner, then?"

I frowned. "Well, We could hardly leave it there, undefended...we'll lose the one-to-one million odds we already have."

Bobby madly gestured towards me. "Do you see what I mean about being pessimistic? We need a more optimistic praetor. Jason, if you can just fix your behavior, you'll be _the_ picture-perfect example of what Reyna needs to see. Being a good praetor includes having good looks, and Reyna needs to get a smile on that grave face of hers more often!"

"Thank you very much," Reyna curtly said, stalking over to Bobby. The son of Trivia visibly swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Uh, no problem, Reyna."

"There's a word," Reyna scowled (which she was already doing), "called _sarcasm_. You use it very often, Bobby. You do know what the meaning of _sarcasm_ is, don't you, Bobby?"

"Yes," Bobby whispered meekly. "I do."

"Great. Who are the guards for the banner?"

"We haven't decided yet," I admitted. Reyna sighed in exasperation. "Jason, I sometimes wonder about you. You were at Camp Jupiter for about twelve years now, right? Use your common sense that you have only a meager amount of in that hollow skull of yours!" She knocked me on the forehead, which produced a frighteningly "hollow" sound. "Wow. That just proved my point. You're lucky that Bobby and Hazel are going to be guarding to flag."

Bobby raised a nervous hand. "Uh, Reyna, meaning no disrespect, but I was on guard duty last time..."

"No excuses," Reyna snapped. "Go, and fetch Hazel while you're at it. _Annabeth_ has a _very_ specific reason for choosing you two." She scowled a bit when she said "Annabeth". Whatever Reyna told me before, I was pretty sure that she still hadn't gotten over the fact that she and Percy Jackson destroyed her first home, "C.C.'s Spa and Resort". "Jason," she said, "you're manning to the scorpion ballista and the water cannons. Gwen, you take half of these Egyptian magicians and defend the compound where the banner is. Larry and Aulus will be with you."

"Great," Gwen nodded, running off to gather half of Carter and Sadie's group.

Reyna stared after them and then, unexpectedly, sat down on the ground and buried her head in her hands. I sat down next to her, rather alarmed because I'd never seen the daughter of Bellona break down like this. "Reyna, what's wrong?"

"You!" Reyna snapped, her head shooting up to glare at me. "You're the one that's wrong!" She shot to her feet and stormed off. Aurum and Argentum stared at me reproachfully with those big ruby eyes, and sprang off to rejoin their mistress. She left me wondering what I could have possibly done wrong.

"No, no, no!" I yelled a couple minutes later, waving my arms. "You have to crank it _backwards_, not _forwards_!"

"Oh." Percy turned red as he began cranking the opposite way to load the big firey arror onto the boy. "There!"

I examined the position. Perfect. The arrow was blazing, the lead tip set with fire so hot that the lead was starting to melt, and it bathed the whole fort in a nice, toasty orange glow. In fact, since there was a bunch more scorpion ballistas in a neat line along the whole length of the fort, the whole place felt uncomfortably hot.

"We're all set," I said in satisfaction. "Ready? The game's going to start in a few moments."

As if on cue, the horn blew, signaling the start of the game. I remembered one of the books I read, _The Hunger Games_, when the announcer, some man called "Claudius Templesmith" announced: _Let the games begin_!

"Launch it!" I yelled. Percy pulled back on the crank and the arrow whizzed towards the mass of students, who scattered at the sight of the big flaming weapon that was now heading their way. It blew a massive crater in the grounds, smoking and steaming in the dirt.

"Water cannon!" I screamed, sprinting towards the nearest cannon and cranking it up. The high-pressured blast of water bore down on a couple of guys from that snake House, Slytherin or something like that. One of them, a boy with pale blond hair squealed like a little girl as the water carved a trench straight in front of him. He tittered on his toes like a ballerina, and then fell into the hole, all the while screaming his head off like a little child throwing a temper tantrum because they couldn't get candy.


	14. War Games

**Okay! I'm back! Woot, woot!  
>I'm going to be in Rochester, New York during Thurday and Friday, because of some composition concert that I was chosen for. Yeah, I was one of the sixteen people to be chosen in the entire state of New York!<br>On another happy note, I finally got IT! _The Son of Neptune_ was given to me as a very late birthday present by my friend, Rainfire37 (no, she's not on Fanfiction.) So, I'm in a happy mood.  
>NO FLAMES, PLEASE.<br>Malfoy's a bit OC in this chapter. I don't know how I should act him out in first person PoV, so tell me what you think.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter Fourteen<span>**  
><em><span>Draco Malfoy<span>_

I hated being on the attacking team.

It was wild, crazy, dangerous, and totally scary. (Did I mention that I hated it?)

So there I was, stumbling across the field with Crabbe and Goyle, trying not to trip over my armor as we struggled to find an opening in the defenses of the demigods/magicians.

For all of my futile efforts, some blond guy—Jason, wasn't it?—just had to spot my very sneaky entrance (Father would be proud) and aim this aqua-colored thing at me.

This huge blast of water carved a trench straight in front of me—and I mean, like, _straight in front of me_. I admit that I might have squealed _a bit_—mind you, it was tiny—as I swung my arms in circular motions, Weasley-style. Crabbe and Goyle lumbered to keep me from falling in, but curse them, they were too slow. I toppled straight into the pit, hitting the mud with a thump. I tumbled down the increasingly-steep slope, getting my robes, face, and generally, all of my body in mud. Father was going to kill Jason.

"Whoops!" I heard the boy with green eyes, Percy Jackson or something-or-the-other yell. "Sorry about that!"

Well, wasn't that a bit too late for an apology?

I raised my wand and screamed, "_Petrificus Totalus_!" **[A.N./ Holy crap, according to Harry Potter Wiki, I actually spelled that right!]**

Percy's limbs snapped together and he fell down, stunned by the full Body-Bind spell. He was exactly like a wood board that was getting ready to be sliced in half.

"What the—?" Jason glared down at me and waved to another girl to man the water cannon in his place. He half-jumped, half-slid down the ramparts and landed on the ground, somehow managing not to break any bones. He snatched this gold, circle-shaped thing out of his pocket that looked a lot like a Galleon and flipped it. In another instant, he was holding a long gold lance-thing with a wickedly sharp point. I didn't fancy him sticking that thing into my skull.

I shot a couple of Stunning Spells at him, which Jason weaved between like he'd been dodging magical spells all his life.

Crabbe and Goyle both aimed their wands at him and attempted, "_Expelliarmus_!"

Jason stumbled back as his lance flew up in the air and flopped at Goyle's feet.

"Disarmed now, aren't you?" I sneered, leering at him. Jason's glare intensified. "Not at all."

He thrust his hands out, and maybe it was just me, but I felt a strong gust of wind. Jason clapped his hands, and this small whirlwind howled into existence. He charged, lightning flickering on his hands like he was going to punch me with that lightning and send me shooting back to Hogwarts.

In fact, when he managed to touch me on the shoulder, it was like this huge sting was arcing through my body. I tried to move, and found that I was no better off than Percy. Crabbe and Goyle weren't much better.

"You're our prisoners, now!" Jason announced. He waved to another boy that was just beating off a hoard of Hufflepuffs. "Andrew!"

_Oh, Merlin..._

* * *

><p>I usually don't get scared straight out of my wits, but this was an exception.<p>

Andrew, this big burly guy grabbed us by the cuffs of our robes like we were forsaken nifflers and smacked open a door in the ramparts. I saw a set of stone stairs leading down into blackness and immediately thought: _These are the worst dungeons ever_.

Crabbe grunted next to me and thickly said, "How _long_ are we going to be in there?"

"Until the game ends," Andrew snapped, dropping us like sacks of Galleons. "Or, if you somehow find a way to break out of here, which has never happened before. So enjoy your stay, and blah, blah, blah." The iron door slammed shut with a fatal-sounding _boom_ behind us.

For all of Jason's carefulness (which I must say wasn't a lot), he forgot to do one key thing to us.

"Can we just, like, use our wands?"

I cleared my throat. "Well..." I raised my wand and pointed at the doors, hoping that the explosion wouldn't be enough to kill all three of us. "_Reducto_!"

The iron doors blew apart, the pieces ricocheting all around the room. I hopped out of the way of a particularly large piece and beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle. "Come on! Let's go get that banner!"

As soon as we steppd out of the prison, alarm bells went off—in the form of screaming people. I ran past all the stunned guards, Crabbe and Goyle tripping after me. We ran into the inner keep, which was virtually unguarded. Apparently, Jason had gotten too confident and directed all the defenders towards the main battlement.

"Where's—that—god-forsaken—banner?" I panted. A second later, I collided with somebody in armor**—**some blond girl with gray eyes. She stumbled back, her eyes wide. "How—?"

I yelled, "_Stupefy_!" A red blast of light shot from the end of my wand and hit the girl straight in the chest. Her eyes went wide and she fell to the ground, properly Stunned.

"There!" Goyle grunted, pointing with his wand towards a stone complex. We all scrambled for the door, and I yanked it open. Sadly, there were two guards in there, their swords bristling like very large, blown up porcupine spikes.

The boy raised his hand and muttered an incantation while the girl popped underground. A large, sizzling blue sphere of fire appeared in midair, which flew straight towards my feet.

I was blown back by the force of the explosion, sending my flying back into the wall. I cracked my head and slid to the ground. Staggering to my feet, I bawled, "_Aguamenti_!" A jet of water sprayed straight into the spellcaster's face, who spluttered and rubbed his eyes.

Unfortunately, I compeltely forgot about the other girl. As I snatched the banner, there was a large rumbling under my feet and I was blown back a second time, this time with the banner in my hand, and I was shot back by a wall full of dirt and stones.

I spat out some of that dirty brown stuff out of my mouth and screamed, "Go, go, go!"

Crabbe and Goyle took the cue, and we ran for our lives, both guards sprinting after us. They were both gaining, and I could see more soldiers streaming towards us.

"Oh, great," I complained. I raised my wand and started shooting spells left and right. Crabbe and Goyle, while not very skilled at magic, were sort of like large, lumbering humans that could clear a path through everything. By the time that we got to the battlement entrance, I was breathing hard, cut up, and bleeding. Father would have a field day when he saw me like this. My hair was streaked with dirt, blood, and a few choice objects.

I ran through th battlement, the banner held high.

Potter caught sight of me first and froze, his head almost lopped off by the girl he was dueling. "You have it!"

Well, no duh, Sherlock.

"_What_?" the girl screeched, swiveling around and catching a faceful of the Impedimenta Curse. She fell, her fingers twitching.

A horn blared, signalling the end of the game.

Well, joy to the world: we won.


	15. Quidditch, Game One

****Okay! Here we go! (Gosh, I never thought that I would quote Mario.)  
>I put a blind poll up in my profile. Please, pretty please with sprinkles on top, vote! No political parties, please.<br>And I'm still struggling over who I want from the Demigods/Magicians to be Triwizard Champion. Percy's definitely _not_ going to be it. He's used too often. It's kinda...**cliché**? Is that what you call it? Yeah, people use him as champion (if they're doing this Tournament thingy) way too often. It's getting old. As much as I want to do it, no Thalia or Nico either. _Que pensez-vous?_ [Did I get my French right? I'm only in seventh grade (pretty please do not report me, I'm one year away from being thirteen!) and so far, we learned about family, food/drinks, and weather. Hmph.]**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter Fifteen<span>  
><strong>_Percy_

Okay: I am officially dead.

I have to admit, despite all the death glares that Thalia was shooting at me, I still voted for her to become Keeper. So what do I get in return?

You got it. I was voted Keeper for the _first_ game. Imagine, they're holding two games of this Quidditch thing. Dear Father Poseidon, please, _pretty please_ prevent Uncle Zeus from blasting me out of the sky. I promise that I'll get you that seashell-patterned tie for Father's Day.

Well, at least it wasn't that bad, we were going to have a little practice, flying on broomsticks (maybe those myths about warty-nosed witches flying on their ragged broomsticks are true), catching balls, and whatnot.

There I was, outside in the freezing air, my breath puffing out into little gasps. All the demigods and magicians that weren't going to play in either of the matches were sitting on the sidelines, ready to laugh their butts off while they snap pictures at me toppling down from my broomstick.

Thalia looked just as nervous as I was. She seemed very comical with her Quidditch robes and these fingerless gloves on, but I decided not to say that. Zeus would be grumpy with me already for flying into the air on a frickin' _broomstick_. I didn't need his daughter being mad at me, too.  
>"Dude!" Travis jogged over, his eyes lit up with excitement. "Let's have a practice run! Come on, team! Go, go, go!"<p>

Holy Poseidon. I'd never seen Travis so enthusiastic about flying. As it was, he kicked off, shouted with exhilaration at the top of his lungs, and dropped like a stone five seconds in.

I attempted to follow Travis's example—not the falling-down part, but the "kick-off" part. I sat clumsily on my broomstick, which didn't sit very well under my other-word-for-donkey, and ineptly kicked the ground. I screamed with absolute fear as my Comet Two-Sixty whizzed off, more like it was dragging _me_ and generally, taking control of my movements. I _knew_ it was supposed to be the other way around…Have you ever tried to hang on to a bucking broomstick doing loop-the-loops in the air? It's not fun.

I somehow managed to clamber awkwardly back onto my broomstick just as it was making a loop. All the blood rushed to my head, and when the broomstick reluctantly righted itself, my head was spinning. I promptly hit the ground a second later.

"Next!" Travis called. What? Oh, we were _so_ going to fail.

* * *

><p>By the time that the match was set to take place—three hours later—I had sort of got the hang of flying broomsticks. At least, I could roll over and stay on my broom, and occasionally block the big red soccer ball—a Quaffle?—and prevent the "Quaffle" from going into the goals.<p>

Sadly, we were still going to lose. We had a very ragtag team that consisted of Travis (okay, maybe he could pull off a prank in the air without falling off his kleptomaniac broomstick), Bobby (sadly, he couldn't cast magic in this Quidditch match), Felix (Carter had told me to _never_ play basketball with him, so he would be well with bonking people on the head with a Quaffle), Walt, Nico (he was about as hyperactive/nervous as a highly caffeinated water buffalo being chased by a bunch of snarling wolves), me, and Reyna (I hoped that she was competant with chasing a walnut-sized gold ball in the air).

Sadie and Hazel would be commenting, and by the way that Sadie was whispering in Hazel's ear, I had a feeling that they were going to totally make a fool out of us by commenting on our extreme clumsiness. However, Professor "Minerva McGonagall" was watching over them as she handed this huge purple megaphone over to Sadie.

Over on our end of the field, a small crowd had gathered. Jason was expectantly staring at us, Annabeth flashed me an assuring grin, like, _You'll do fine! _(as if), Thalia was glaring at her combat boots, Carter was waving a purple-and-silver banner (the color of our Quidditch robes), and Drew was complaining/crying about a broken nail. I must say, our supporters were not all that supportive.

"Mount your brooms, please!" Madam Hooch, some hawk of a woman barked. I hesitated for a second, and then clambered onto my broom nervously. It bucked unhelpfully.

"_SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!_" Madam Hooch's whistle blew, like a hawk making a very loud, hoarse scream. It matched my mixed feelings about flying in this perfectly.

I kicked off the ground and very nearly fell off my broom in the first second. It obviously still hated me as I bounced/flew towards the three vertical basketball hoops.

"Umm..." Sadie started, the megaphone amplifying her American-British accent. "Am I supposed to, like, talk about what this game is about? Okay!"

A girl from the Hogwarts team caught the Quaffle with a hand.

"And the big red soccer ball—er, the Quaffle—is taken by..." Sadie consulted her sheet of paper and announced, "...Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor! Wait, no, FELIX! I DON'T—NO MORE PSYCHOTIC EMPEROR PENGUINS!"

Angelina shrieked and dropped the Quaffle as a feathery, frantically squeaking gray penguin chick landed on her head.

Professor McGonagall loudly cleared her throat.

"Er..." Hazel popped in. "I think that was a...foul? Right. A foul."

Poseidon, please help me block this big red soccer ball. Some big, burly guy from Slytherin zoomed up to take the offer.

"Hey, Percy, you can do it!" Jason called. _No, I can't. Can you take my place?_

The guy hurled the Quaffle straight at the accidently unguarded left post. I awkwardly trip-flew to the post and arrived just in time for the Quaffle to bonk my head.

"Nice save!" Sadie yelled. "And Travis Stoll of Camp Half-Blood takes possession of the Quaffle!"

Somehow, Travis managed not to fall from his broom or drop the Quaffle. He passed to Felix, who promptly threw it straight at Hogwart's middle goal. The Keeper caught it with his fingertips and chucked it straight at the other girl Chaser.

Sadie handed to microphone to Hazel, who began yelling into it the wrong way. Sadie took the bullhorn and put it the other way as Hazel was still talking: "—And...um, 'Miles Bletchley' makes a save! It's...zero-zero right now. Wonderful."

Meanwhile, after I let in three goals (hey, don't blame me! One of them would have knocked me off the broom if I didn't swerve, another—well, sorry, but I was kind of preoccupied with staring at the grass, and the last...we don't need to get into that), Reyna was having her own problems. The two Hogwartian Beaters kept on chasing the Bludgers so that poor Nico and Walt couldn't take a swing, and they were smacking the Bludgers straight towards our Seeker. As I watched, Reyna ducked under one black ball and rolled to avoid another from breaking her neck.

"Hey, _catch the Snitch_!" somebody from our side screamed, presumably Travis. "Pronto! Pronto!"

I bet that if Reyna could have stabbed him, she would have. She had abosolutely no time to look for the Snitch with all those Bludgers flying around. And I was hovering uselessly in midair, my butt aching like crazy, with nothing to do but chase after big red balls.

Draci Malfoy, that annoying Slytherin, suddenly dived towards me. I saw a wink of gold right next to my left ear, and Malfoy was zipping straight towards me. The Snitch probably would have squealed if it could. It flew straight past Reyna's head, who was ducking under a Bludger. Malfoy hurtled past her, and Reyna, who had obviously saw the Snitch, sprinted after him.

"It looks like..." Sadie once again consulted her sheet of awesomeness. "...Draco Malfoy of the Slytherin House and Reyna from Camp Jupiter are neck-to-neck for the Snitch! Hey, you guys, if you were any closer, you would be kissing—"

Malfoy slammed into Reyna from surprise as Sadie said that. Both of them went careening towards the ground, and landed in a strangled heap. Madam Hooch's whistle blew just as the Quaffle whizzed past my ear, and the score became one hundred-thirty, Hogwarts. I was a terrible Keeper.

"TIME OUT!" Madam Hooch screeched. "EVERYBODY, CLEAR OUT!"

Reyna shoved Malfoy away from her, her face bright red. Malfoy glared back. I could almost see the lightning flashing between them. Both of them swung onto their brooms without another word. I had a feeling that they had just bonded—in a bad way.

"IN!" Madom Hooch screamed, and blew her whistle again. Immediately, Angelina Johnson snatched the Quaffle from under Bobby's nose and swung around. Nico had a stroke of luck, and when the Bludger came flying right past him, he squeezed his eyes shut and smacked the Bludger with his club. It grazed Angelina on the back and she dropped the Quaffle straight into Travis's waiting hands.

"And demigods and magicians take possession of the Quaffle!" Hazel announced. "Travis Stoll passes to...Felix, and Felix throughs the ball..."

"...and it looks like it's going at a hundred miles an hour!" Sadie commented helpfully. True to her word, the Keeper yelped in fear of getting his head taken off and ducked, allowing the Quaffle to fly in the middle hoop.

"BLETCHLEY!" everybody on the Hogwarts team/supporters (but the Keeper) roared.

Over the next hour, I actually got better and Keeping and saved a couple of goals, but let seven in. Since we had only scored once again since Madam Hooch's whistle, it was one hundred seventy to forty, still Hogwarts. If Reyna didn't catch the Snitch _right now_—and I meant, _right now_—I was going to stab her in the gut. My bottom was going to ache for a month at this rate.

Five minutes passed, and I let another two goals in.

"One hundred ninety to forty, Hogwarts!" Hazel announced. Somehow, she managed to sound upbeat, even after an hour and thirty minutes. I would have gone crazy. "And Montague takes possession of—what just happened?"

For Malfoy and Reyna, both of whom had been flying near the clouds, searching for the Snitch, both dived down so suddenly that Drew let out a very girly scream and ducked for cover.

"The Snitch!" Travis and Montague both bellowed, forgetting their fight for the Quaffle in the excitement. "GET THE SNITCH!"

Reyna accidently kicked the Snitch straight at Malfoy, who fumbled and dropped it. It hit Reyna in the head, and both Seekers collided in midair again. They were on their brooms a second later, still neck-to-neck in the chase.

Madam Hooch's whistle blew. "THE GAME IS OVER! THE WINNER IS..."

* * *

><p><strong>Ha, I'm evil. Cliffhanger!<strong>


	16. Of Insults and Romance

******** THIS! I just noticed (of course, I'm very ignorant at times) that I spelled the title wrong! ARGH, it's supposed to be "Feuding Worlds", not "Fueding Worlds". So much for me beta-reading for spelling and grammar...  
>sstabeler brought it to my attention that whoever touches the Snitch with their flesh first, technically caught it. Hm. That just ups what I have in store for them in this chapter. I promise, more Triwizard Tournament action will be coming in the later chapters. I haven't forgotten about my plot, people!<br>Holy father of Zeus! I cleaned out my Gmail inbox on Sunday, and here I am on Monday, with 30 e-mails, all of them either Favorite Stories for this or Story Alert. Let's go, team! Only 6 more Alerts until 100!  
>Oh my freaking _ _ _ _ _<strong>******! (For all of you Christians out there, I'm not saying "Him"—I'm an athiest myself—but whatever. ASIAN PRIDE! WOOT, WOOT!)****

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter Sixteen<span>  
><strong>_Percy_

"No, _she_ caught the Snitch, not your freaking Seeker, perv!" Clarisse snarled, nose-to-nose with Montague.

Montague objected, "Malfoy touched the Snitch with his hands first! _Your_ goody-two-shoes caught that Snitch after Malfoy touched and fumbled! And she didn't even catch it _properly_!"

"Guys!" Annabeth cut in. "It was a tie, anyways, so what's to care?"

Both Clarisse and Montauge glared at her with such venom that I was surprised that Annabeth didn't burst into flames.

"Stop _arguing_!" Nico yelled, putting his head in his hands. "You're GIVING ME A HEADACHE!" A couple of bones popped up at his feet, agreeing with his agitation. "It's just a gods-forsaken, dumb, stupid, GAME!"

"Well, let's see how much you like the gods-forsasken, dumb, stupid game when I fall off my frickin' stick every five seconds next week," Thalia muttered under her breath, playing with her scrambled eggs.

Jason hesitated, obviously wondering whether or not to try and quell his sister's bad mood. He went for it: "We're practicing today on the Quidditch field. I'm sure you'll be fine after..." Apparently, Jason didn't know what to say after that.

Thalia looked like she'd been slapped in the face. "Yeeeeah, that'll happen as soon as Percy gets smarter then Annabeth."

"Hey!" I objected, standing up so fast that our maple syrup tipped over. "I _am_ smarter than Annabeth!"

Every single demigod and magician in the Hall looked at me as if I were crazy. Sadie raised a hand. "First, I would like you to know that I mean to be insulting. Doesn't everybody call you 'Seaweed Brain', and Annabeth 'Wise Girl'? So techinically, your skull is full of floppy green wet weeds, and Annabeth's a braniac."

Cricket, cricket. Then, Connor burst out laughing. "Oh, man! BURN!"

Annabeth, however, was not one to take an insult of that caliber and let it go easily. "You want to find out who's smarter, Seaweed Brain?"

If this were Thalia talking to me, it would be the right time to say: _Bring it on, Pinecone Face!_ **[A.N./ Okay, I took that from _The Titan's Curse_, but...you know. Whatever.] **Sadly, saying that same thing and replacing "Pinecone Face" with "Wise Girl" didn't seem to have quite the same effect. I settled for a lame, "Okay..."

"OOOH! PICK ME!" Travis squealed, his hand shooting up into the air like a nuclear missile being launched into space. "PICK ME!"

"Er, Travis?" Bobby asked. "You're not included in this..."

"No, I have an idea!" Travis loudly said, rubbing his hands together and scaring a few first-year Hufflepuffs out of their wits. "Percy and Annabeth make up nicknames for each other!"

"That isn't testing intelligence—" Jason uncertainliy started, but my rebellious mouth decided to say, "Sure it is! Let's do this!"

Reyna rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "Boys." I don't think that she meant for anybody to hear, but Thalia agreed, "Tell me about it."

"We'll give you five minutes," Jaz suggested. Carter popped in and added, "Everybody give them some peace and quiet!"

Like that would work. What I really needed was Mr. Wrigley's Marvelous, Fast-Acting Nickname Thinking Drink.

_Okay_, I thought as Sadie conjured a timer and clicked the button. _Wise Girl...Owl Head...um..._

That's pretty much how the five minutes came and went: My brain was frantically working overtime to think of anything related to Athena, and the sound of Annabeth's pen on paper, scribbling down insults wasn't helping one bit.

"Time's up!" Sadie announced after I still only had "Wise Girl" and "Owl Head". Sadie smirked evilly at me. "Why don't we let Percy here go first?"

I cleared my throat and tried to make the two nicknames sound insulting and dignified at the same time: "Wise Girl and Owl Head."

Everybody waited another minute before they realized that I was done. Clarisse and Nico both burst out laughing. Jason, Hazel, and Reyna (surprisingly) closely followed.

After Annabeth had her laughing fix, she began listing off at least a hundred and twenty four names: "Seaweed Brain, Fish Breath, Aqua Boy, Barnacle Beard Junior, Shark Bait, Squid Face, Starfish Skin, Coral Brine **[A.N./ Credit to Lord of the Crickets for the nickname "Coral Brine"]**, Kelp Head, Mermaid Man—"

"Okay!" I yelled, raising my hands in surrender. "I get it! You're better at making nicknames! Can we _please_ not loose any more Spongebob Squarepants names?"

"What's 'Spongebob Squarepants'?" both Annabeth and Jason put in.

Oh. My. Freaking. Gods. And Annabeth claims to be smarter then me? I was like, "_! ! !"_ Every single person in the whole world knows about Spongebob. He's a sponge that's called Bob. Period. (Okay, fine...not the "Bob" part, but you get what I mean, right?)

"Annabeth, how _could you not know who Spongebob is?_"

"Why not?" Annabeth retorted, her gray eyes flashing. "It's not as if I spend all of my time paying attention to the mortal world!"

Nico whispered to Thalia, "Cat fight!"

Cat fight? Annabeth and me in a cat fight, in the Great Hall? No. I can't let that happen. I lurched forwards towards Annabeth, who was so surprised that she just sat there as I toppled over the table and landed on top of her.

Maybe I did something that I wasn't supposed to do in public, because every single demigod and magician was staring at me as if I had just blown up Olympus.

Thalia put down her fork. "I call that Percy gets to do kitchen duty for the rest of our stay here for his public display of affection."

"Hey!" Drew objected loudly so that everybody could hear, "everybody knows that Percy and Annabeth are crazy for each other!"

Great. Now, the whole world knew that me and Annabeth loved each other, which was _not true_. Athena was going to spontaneously combust.

Sadie was laughing hysterically, and Jason was turning purple from trying not to follow her example. All around us, people were giggling, including some Hogwarts students.

"It's—" Thalia started, but she shut her mouth and began again a second later, "I still think that he should do kitchen duty."

"You're not Chiron!" Drew whined. "They look _adorable_ together! _Beyond_ adorable!" she added. She gestured towards the picture of me still flopped awkwardly over Annabeth, who was gasping for breath: "Percy—Jackson—get—off—don't—ever—kitchen—duty—"

Nico chuckled. "Why only Percy?" He sounded as if he already knew the answer before it came out of everybody's lips.

"Becuase then," Clarisse started.

"—_they_ would do nothing—" Bobby piped.

"—but express—" Sadie snorted.

"—their love for—" Connor sneered.

"—each other," Thalia finished.

The last thing I heard before everybody (but Drew and Annabeth) hauled me off to our common room was Drew screaming, "THALIA GRACE! Dish duty _so_ totally does _not_ spell out romance!"


	17. Rise of the Sky

**Bwahahahaha! Iza an evil person! You don't know the identity of the dude, although you probably will a few sentences in! And no, this third-person PoV isn't a mistake.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter Seventeen<span>  
><strong>_Unknown_

He glared at the sphere of red-and-green light, not enjoying the Christmas theme one bit. All of the events had been set into action, until _they_ decided to stick their nosy head into the perfect plan and ferry about two dozen teenagers across the ocean.

The dangerous thing was that all three myths had actually mixed, and were getting along fairly well. Okay, he wasn't sure about Art and Authority, but that hardly mattered. They had very similar beliefs.

"You said that they wouldn't come!" he hissed angrily, his eyes taking on a dangerous gleam. "You said that they were too busy with other matters! Well, Set, what do you have to say of that?"

The Red Lord yawned. "Oh, dear. Looks like somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed. In case you haven't noticed, Snake Head, we came to Delphi to raise the Eternal One, not to bicker. Although," he added, "it would be nice to blow you to ashes." Set continued dumping Fury essence onto the alter, which was beginning to smoke threateningly. The snake hissed with disgust as the smell of rotten eggs lying in Arizona heat wafted throughout the temple.

Set snapped his fingers. "Voldy, do you have the—?"

"I _told_ you not to call me 'Voldy'!" Voldemort screeched dryly. He burrowed deeper into his cauldron, muttering darkly at this weakened form of himself. Soon, yes, the sky would grant him his former strength.

"I was _going_ to say," Set said, annoyingly patient, "do you have Porphyrion's blood? Polybotes' poison? Alcyoneus' heart? We can't raise him properly without his—"

"Yes, yes!" Voldemort glowered as much as a snake head could glower, and handed Set a vial full of glowing golden blood mixed with a sickly-green poison, and a raw diamond. Set muttered a spell as he tossed all three ingredients onto the alter. It billowed noxious gold-blue smoke.

Set smacked his lips. "All we need is a pinch of Love!"

"Mmph!" Voldemort growled, his red eyes fixated on the now-shining alter. "Hurry up!"

Set drawled, "As you insist, _Voldy_." He gingerly unclapsed a pink-and-silver box, and a golden mist drifted out of it, settling across the whole mass of sacrificed items like a glittery blanket. There was a huge silver flash, and a vortex opened up. Lightning crashed, and thunder rumbled as a giant blue fist, shimmering with stars emerged from the spiraling portal. The giant blue man crawled out of the portal, dragging his huge bulk out. He had a long, thick scar across his abdomen. He opened his eyes, which were pure gold.

He bellowed something in Greek, which Set translated as, "ALIVE!"

_Well_, Voldemort darkly thought, _a bit obvious, much?_

"Scythe!" Ouranos shouted in a thick accent. "KRONOS!"

* * *

><p><strong>This was Part One. Until next time!<strong>


	18. Mysteries

**Chapter Eighteen**  
><em><span>Thalia<span>_

Note to self: Do _not_ attempt to fly on a stick, hovering several hundred feet in the air while having a brain seizure/freeze at the same time.

After we had stuffed Percy back into the Egyptian common room (which was way cool, by the way), Jason and everybody else not-so-casually suggested that we go to the field to practice Quidditch. Obviously, they had made some sort of arrangement without telling me—I was pretty sure that Annabeth and Jason went to book the field from Professor Dumbly-dore.

Annabeth tossed me a broomstick, which sailed towards me and smacked me straight in the nose. I furiously swatted at Annabeth, suddenly furious and hissed, "What was that for?"

"I supposed that you would catch it," Annabeth remarked. "It was a _toss_, for Athena's sake!"

I muttered an Ancient Greek cuss under my breath and picked up the broom, which rattled cheerfully in my hand. "And the last time I checked," I snapped at it, "broomsticks are not alive." The broomstick twitched in response.

"Somebody's in a grumpy mood," Jason teased, coming over. "What's up with you? You've been off ever since this morning. And I don't think it's because we are making you fly on a broomstick."

I couldn't even act cordial to my little brother, which was the first sign that something was very wrong with me. "Just leave me alone!" I snarled, stalking off, dropping my broom.

Jason was right. My bad mood had been increasing ever since this morning, and I had an uncomfortable buzz in my head that just wouldn't go away. As I stomped towards the edge of the forest, the buzz in my ears grew into a full-out roar. I bit my lip, trying not to collapse as my vision turned red for a second. What in Hades was happening to me? Did Percy have some voodoo magic and infect me with it? I was pretty sure Percy didn't know how to turn somebody into a mindless zombie. At least, I hoped he didn't. Becoming his slave would be against the laws of nature.

That's when the pain hit me. I collapsed to the ground, writhing and quite possibly yelling my head off. It felt like somebody was slicing my head open with a white-hot knife, and kept on hacking until I burst into flames. No thanks, I didn't need to be consumed by fire.

The pain reached a peak in when I felt like my whole being was splitting, like the very atoms that made me myself were deteriorating into nothingness. I sank into a black abyss.

When I opened my eyes, I was in some dark room. I hammered against the walls: "Hello? Anybody there?"

Nobody answered. The air remained cold, dark, uninviting, and silent. There didn't seem to be any way to get out, so I just sighed and sat down. I had a feeling that I was in for a long wait.

* * *

><p><em><span>Annabeth<span>_

Jason and I stared after Thalia's shaking, retreating figure. I looked at Jason. "What's up with her? It was like she wanted to kill us."

Thalia's brother shrugged uneasily. "I don't know."

We stared at her in silence until the said girl dropped to the ground, convulsing and yelling violently.

Everybody else drops what they're doing and stares at us. I exchange a look with Jason and we both sprint towards Thalia. I kneeled down and attempted to keep her still. As soon as I touched her, I jerked my hand back, which was smoking.

"Holy father of Zeus!" I swore, shaking my hand. "I think she must have sent about a thousand volts through me!"

Jason tentatively prodded his sister and yanked his hand back. "Me, too. I can't repel it, for some—whoa."

Thalia stoped shaking and shook her head for a few moments, muttering something. Everybody else cautiously edged closer. I pulled on Thalia's jacket and dragged her up into a sitting position. "Thalia? Are you—"

My friend opened her eyes, which happened to be black, and lunged for my throat.


	19. Black Lightning and Amnesiacs

**_IMPORTANT Author's Note! READ!_  
>Okay:<em> somebody hacked into my account right before my very eyes at the school library today.<em> Naturally, I logged him off *forcibly, I'll admit*, but the damage was done. (Screw him! His account is Megablukk on here...I think. We used to be best friends. Now, I think that we like each other about as much as Reyna will like Piper *presumably* _or_ how much Number Six likes Sam in the movie, _I Am Number Four_.) I think that you know what that means.  
>So, yeah. I changed my password, which I think will block him, <em>for now<em>, but if this ever happens again, I'm probably deleting every story, going incognito, and generally, making sure nobody knows me. It'll be a new start. I can't risk him hacking into my documents, too. That would be a disaster. Does any reader of this want this story to be deleted? Don't be shy. Because you users who hate this story so much that they read it to make fun of it soon may get your wish. Not that anybody has shown up yet.  
>Anyways, to replace that whole Jason-Percy thing (a.k.a., losing their memory) I plopped Thalia into the midst as their *ta-da!* replacement. Why? Because she's gotten brainwashed, as you all know.<br>QUIDDITCH BEING DISHED OUT NEXT CHAPTER! TRIWIZARD AFTER THAT! PREPARE YOURSELVES!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter Nineteen<span>**  
><em><span>Percy<span>_

I instantly knew that something was amiss when everybody clambered into the common room, their faces stark white. Walt and Dakota were both standing straight in front of something—or someone that I wouldn't want to see. I tried to peek past them, but they shifted their position so that I couldn't see anything but a...flash of blond hair.

_Annabeth_.

"What the—?" I sputtered. "Get—get out of my way!" I violently pushed both guys past me and stared in horror at Annabeth, who was being supported by Jason and Reyna. Her head was lolling, and there was a red mark around her throat. A knife slash was dripping rivulets blood down her arm.

"What happened?" I screamed in a rage. "AND DON'T TELL ME THAT QUIDDITCH PRACTICE CAME TO THIS, BECAUSE I KNOW IT DIDN'T! WHO DID THIS? I'LL KILL THEM!"

Nico made a strangled sound while waving his hands in the air. "Percy—"

"_Shut up!_" I snarled. I knelt by Annabeth's side.

Jason gently set Annabeth down on a tan leather couch and clicked his fingers. Bobby hurried over with a canteen of nectar. While dressing the wound, Jason described the scenario.

"It was really weird. Annabeth was just talking to Thalia, and I teased her a bit, and she just got ticked off. She told us to leave her alone, and stormed towards the woods. A couple minutes later, she just started having this seizure, and then...well, Annabeth tried to revive her, but Thalia recovered with some serious mental issues, because she just leapt up and tried to strangle Annabeth here. She would have killed Annabeth if Nico hadn't pulled her off."

Nico winced and was apparently nursing his hands, which had rather large burns on them. "Electricity," he explained.

"When that failed, she pulled Annabeth's knife from its sheath and slashed, and then she just ran off. She disappeared in a flash of lightning, literally." Jason blinked back tears. "I don't know what happened to her."

Annabeth coughed weakly as Bobby put the canteen of nectar in her hand. She struggled to sit up. "It wasn't Thalia," she muttered. "I think she had a mental takeover or something. Her eyes were black."

"Maybe it was something related to her godly heritage," Sadie suggested. Jason shook his head. "I wasn't affected by whatever the thing was."

"You're from the Roman side of the Greek gods," Carter pointed out.

Jason was silent, but he looked around and snatched a knapsack, dumping some rations, water, spare clothing, nectar, and ambrosia in it. "I'm leaving," he muttered, almost to himself as he slung the pack over his shoulder.

"You're _what_?" Reyna demanded suddenly. "Jason—!"

"Don't!" Jason snapped before Reyna could finish. He usually had a very mild personality, so I was mildly surprised when he snapped like that. "Stop it." He covered his ears.

You could hear a pin drop in the carpeted floor.

"Look, just get a new Seeker and Keeper for the Quidditch game if you're so desperate," Jason said almost wildly. "I don't care. I'm going to find my sister and get her back. I haven't seen her in thirteen years. I'm not going to lose her again." He marched out of the room, the door slamming shut with a fatal-sounding boom behind him.

Nico heavily climbed to his feet. "I'm sorry, guys, but I can't let Jason go alone. I'm going with him." He rushed out of the common room before anybody could ask whether he had a crush on Thalia or not. Travis sighed dreamily. "Ah, young love."

"Well, this is a fine mess," I complained. No, I was _not_ quoting Tintin, thank you very much."Jason's gone, Nico's gone with him, and Thalia's brainwashed."

"You do realize," Jaz slowly said, "that us magicians, the Egyptians are the only exchange group here that _hasn't_ been affected in any way? The Greeks have a brainwashed daughter of Zeus, Nico's gone to find her, Annabeth's been injured, and Jason from the Romans has went as well to find his sister. Why is that?"

Nobody had a reasonable answer to that. I stared at my shoes, a small theory forming in my mind. Well, I've heard small talk about this Dark Lord in the wizarding world, somebody called 'Voldemort'. Maybe he formed an alliance with a Greco-Roman god and an Egyptian god?"

Annabeth nodded slowly. "That makes sense, but who are the two other gods?"

"Well," Hazel slowly started, "we've faced Saturn—Kronos for you Greeks—and his minions. Tartarus is the living spirit of the abyss, and there are still the gi—" She stopped. "Never mind. But I doubt it's either of them. It's got to be some god that's more powerful, more ancient…"

Carter spoke up. "We defeated Set, who likes to be called the Rockin' Red Reaper, and the Snake of Chaos. I can't think of any other plausible god who would fit the description, and we vanquished Apophis. If it's a god that _we_ battled before, it's Set. If it's a god we _didn't_ battle, however…I have no idea."

"Let's all put our thinking caps on," Sadie muttered, partly sarcastically and partly angrily.

"Look, guys," I said, putting my foot down. "The bottom line is, we can't let this interfere with the Triwizard Tournament—the event that we _came_ for. The picking's in a little more than a month. Who do you think is the 'impartial judge'?"

"Chiron," Will Solace instantly suggested as Bobby blurted, "Lupa."

"No," Annabeth countered, "if that were so, they probably would have come with us."

"Okay, fine," Will relented. He chuckled. "Imagine if the judge turned out to be a magical inanimate object. Like, say, it was a cup with flames leaping out of the center."

"Will," Annabeth said, "for a son of the sun god, you are very brain-dead, like Percy, at times."

"Annabeth!" I snapped.

"Hey!" Will protested. "It's a valid theory! Guys, just watch Annabeth turn brick-red when my hypothesis is correct."

"Hmph!" Annabeth muttered. "Like that will ever happen."

* * *

><p>...Or was it?<p>

She couldn't even remember her own name, for god's sake. What she did know was that she didn't like being confined to a tiny cell in the middle of nowhere.

She pounded the ground in frustration, not having the slightest idea on what to do.

The door of the dingy room creaked open, revealing a man with bronze skin. He wore a kilt with a curved sword at his side. What was most strange, she noted, was that this random dude had a falcon's head.

"Hello," the man-falcon said in a perfectly human/cordial tone of voice. "I am the god of war."

"Um. Aphrodite?"

The man-falcon looked slightly surprised. "My, my, we have a serious case of amnesia here, do we not? Well, that's to be expected. Lord Moldy-wart actually did a good job! No, no, that was the Greek goddess of love. I am Montu."


	20. Quidditch, Game Two

**To one of my reviewers, Montu was a minor god of war. At least, that's what my "Encyclopedia of Ancient Egypt" said. He would, obviously and understandably, be annoyed that he was shunted to the side while Horus got all the attention. I mean, they both have falcon heads, for the gods' sake!  
>Anyways, to avoid further confusion, <em>Sokar<em> is the god of falcons. There are a lot of evil falcons in Feuding Worlds. My, my...**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter Twenty<span>**  
><em><span>Sadie<span>_

The scene that was unfolding in front of me was horribly depressing.

First and last, _why the bloody heck was Jason and Thalia both gone now?_ I mean, apparently, this Quidditch game, you can use offensive techniques. So, couldn't Jason just manipulate the air or something to catch the bloody Snitch? Slander!

I know, I've got my priorities so lined up. So while everybody was fretting about losing Thalia to some evil, Greco-Roman mythology god, and were screaming their heads off about losing Jason and Nico, _I_ was worrying about how we were supposed to win the Quidditch match.

Now, Jaz has replaced me as Chaser and I was shunted into the all-annoying position of Seeker. It was decided that Will Solace would be Keeper. His last name sounded like "solstice". (Why does that matter? It doesn't.)

We had gone out into the field again for practice, with Annabeth snapping at anybody who dared stray too near the Forbidden Forest.

The day of the match, the air was cold and windy. I shivered in my robes, my hands clenching around my staff. If possible, I would have said to everybody on the opposing team, "_A'max_"—burn—and set fire to their robes. Sadly, we were not allowed to cause what Madam Pomfrey called _serious harm_, so I couldn't set them on fire. Sad, really sad: the game would be over in five seconds.

Madam Hooch strode to the field, her robes snapping the howling wind. "Mount your brooms!" she barked loudly. I swung onto my broom, my teeth chattering, partly from the anticipation of what I was about to do and partly from the cold.

"Three...two...one..._BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!_"

Madam Hooch's whistle sounded as though it had the sniffles. Nevertheless, fourteen brooms rose up in the air. Carter immediately flopped upside down, and he managed to right himself. It had happened about ten zillion times during practice. His Comet Two Sixty seemed to love flipping people over in midair.

"And theeeeeeeey're off!" Percy squealed over the wind.

"Don't be so melodramatic," Annabeth suggested under her breath as she flew past me.

"Robert Davies from Ravenclaw takes possession of the Quaffle!" Lee announced. "He passes to Pucey...Smith...Pucey...Davies...oh! And Gwendolyn from...uh, Camp Jupiter intecepts!"

I heard somebody bellow from behind me, "_STUPEFY!_"

I instinctively ducked as a red beam of light whizzed past me.

"And Pucey from Slytherin nearly hits...Sadie Kane with a Stunning Spell!"

I whipped around and furiously scribbled in the air, the glyph for _lightning_. A thunder clap broke the sky, and a bolt of lightning flashed down, charring the end of Adrian Pucey's robes. It broke off a piece of his broom, which nearly bucked him off.

Percy took control of the megaphone, which wasn't a good thing as Annabeth Chase had possession of the Quaffle at the moment. Naturally, he started calling out flirty comments, and McGonagall's eyes flashed dangerously, although she didn't make a move to grab the megaphone. She should have, because then, the incident that happened next could have been avoided.

Annabeth couldn't take the comments anymore and chucked the Quaffle at Percy, which _looked_ like she was passing to Jaz but she wasn't. The Quaffle "accidently" flew straight off her fingertips and into Percy, which smacked him in the chest at about seventy miles an hour. Percy toppled over into McGonagall, and it wasn't a pretty sight.

Lee peeled the megaphone from Percy's groping fingers and attempted to regain control as the crowd on the bleachers went wild. "Foul?" he uncertainly said. Obviously, he had never met a situation in which a daughter of Athena hurled a big red ball at a commentator.

I saw a big black ball hurtle towards me—no doubt, a Bludger thrown by one of the Beaters on the opposing team—and ducked. The ball zoomed straightwhere my head had been a second ago, nearly hit Harry Potter's ear, and smacked straight into the chest of Zacharias Smith. He toppled off his broom, his face white.

Madam Hooch's whistle shrilly blew. "TIME OUT! _TIME OUT!_" she bellowed, running to Zacharias's side.

I muttered a curse under my breath as my fingers closed around empty air. I was so _sure_ that I had seen the Snitch, but nooo. Madam Hooch just _had_ to call a time-out just when I could have won for us.

The rest of the game happened without incident, if you call a lot of spells from both me and the wizards flashing around in the air and blades slashing and arrows flying "no incident".

My eyes strayed towards the end of our side, and I saw a glint of gold. I bucked, and zoomed towards the Snitch like an arrow.

Harry Potter, however, had unfortunately seen it as well.

"Come on, come on!" I muttered to my broom. "Go faster!"

Harry cruised past me and snatched the Snitch from right under my nose. I had to jump off my broom to avoid getting hit.

Madam Hooch's whistle shrilled again as I landed on the frozen ground with a thump. Pain blossomed in my arm. I muttered a cuss and staggered up, holding my left arm so that it wouldn't move.

"HOGWARTS WINS!" Lee Jordan bellowed. The Hogwarts supporters rose up in a huge wave and cheered loudly.

Jaz landed next to me. "You okay? That was a pretty nasty fall you had."

"'S okay," I grunted. "I'll live." I staggered back to the castle so that I could collapse on my bed and sulk.


	21. Discoveries

**Hi, people!  
>So you know how our favorite daughter of Zeus *heh, heh* is captured. So I was just slacking off in Math 7 Honors (which I happen to have a 100 in), writing the scenario. Now, you may ask why I'm spending so much time on that. Your "Answer" is:<br>I'm tweaking the stuff at the events, namely, the labyrinth-maze-third-event_._ That's all you need to know right now. Guess the rest. [Hey, that rhymes!]  
>Next chapter's going to be Thalia, and then later, NicoJason.  
>Does anybody think I should make a fic on <em>The Demigod Diaries<em>?**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter Twenty-One<span>**  
><em><span>Annabeth<span>_

"Come _on_, you can't miss a huge event just because we lost a Quidditch match," I persisted. "It's—"

"—just a game," Sadie snapped. "I know that! Stop rubbing it in my face, please!"

I sighed in exasperation. "All right, fine, just sulk on the bed for another couple of hours, and everybody will miss you. We'll be missing you so much that all we're going to do is sulk alongside you. Is that what you want to hear?"

Sadie grumbled, but she finally stalked out of the room. I was a bit nervous. As Jaz had said earlier, none of the Egyptian magicians had been affected by whatever bad luck that we Greeks and Romans were experiencing, so was Sadie their first casualty? I mean, before Thalia had gone all-out crazy/murderer, she had been acting pretty pessimistic, annoyed, and (okay, I'll admit it) sort of...mean/angry. (Not that she never acts that way, but still.)

I half-consciously rubbed my neck, where Thalia had tried to strangle me. I could still feel her cold fingers trying to squeeze the life out of me. I gasped and shook away the memory. No...I can't think about that. That wasn't the girl I knew, the one who let me tag along with her and Luke, the one who got herself turned into a pine tree so that Luke, Grover, and I could get to camp.

But still, I had an uneasy feeling. I hadn't ever read it in any Greek myths, but I remembered looking at one ancient manuscript in Olympus's library. Something about a dark spirit...? It matched the description perfectly. Black eyes? Check. Child of Zeus? Double check. Rise of Ouranos? As far as I knew, no check.

_Well, I've heard small talk about this Dark Lord in the wizarding world, somebody called 'Voldemort'. Maybe he formed an alliance with a Greco-Roman god and an Egyptian god?_ Percy had suggested.

And then, Hazel: _We've faced Saturn—Kronos for you Greeks—and his minions. Tartarus is the living spirit of the abyss, and there are still the gi— _She had stopped._ Never mind. But I doubt it's either of them. It's got to be some god that's more powerful, more ancient..._

Of course. The Greco-Roman deity was Ouranos. The manisfestation of the Sky. Well, no wonder: Zeus was the god of the sky. And Ouranos was the _original_ god of the sky, so obviously, Zeus's children would techinically "belong" to Ouranos. **[A.N./ You know, thanks for that review, Master of Ice and Wuji Grey!]**

I was about to pass out from the new conclusion that I had just stumbled to when Sadie irritably poked her head in the room. "Dude. You told me to get my butt downstairs, now I'll tell _you_ to do that very thing."

I managed to croak out, "Yeah. Be right there."

Stumbling out of the common room, I nearly tripped over my untied shoelaces when I stopped next to Percy. He saw my obviously worried expression, shaking hands, and the fact that I was cold-sweating. My face felt pretty clammy.

"Annabeth? Are you alright?" Percy softly asked, his eyes flicking to the night sky. I flinched when his fingers touched mine and jumped back. "I...yeah. Sure."

Percy looked hurt. "Annabeth...really. You can trust me with...whatever is on your mind."

I shook my head. "Not now. Not here." With difficulty, I diverted my attention to a small black speck in the sky. The sky. I officially hate the sky.

I could barely pay attention when the huge pegasi and powder-blue chariot landed with a thump, or even when that huge ship rose up from the lake. My thoughts were concentrated soley on what I could do to stop the sky—I mean, Ouranos. I instantly wished that I had gone with Jason and Nico.

Will shook me at our table after Dumbledore's announcments, which I hadn't heard one word. "See, Annabeth? I was right! Dude, it's a goblet of fire!"

"Okay," I muttered, staring down at my clammy hands. "Sure. Did we bet on it? Here." With shaking fingers, I handed over five drachmas and dropped them on Will's head.

Will knit his eyebrows. "We didn't bet on it. Annabeth, are you—"

"I _fine!_" I yelled, louder than I intended. Every face in the Great Hall swiveled towards me. "Just—please, stop it!"

Percy looked genuinely scared for my mental stability. He grabbed my arms. "Annabeth!" he whispered. "Just tell me what's on your mind!"

I couldn't take it anymore. It was like every single voice in the world was shouting in my head, and I really needed to go to Olyimpus to check out that manuscript again. I _had_ to.

I fled upstairs in the middle of dessert and stopped straight in front of our common room. I banged my head on the invisible door, which now refused to open since Thalia was gone. We had resorted to camping with the Romans or magicians.

"Come _on_, you stupid door, open up! Let—me—IN!"

The stubborn door did not yield and I crumpled to the ground, trying not to sob. I didn't know why, but I had a feeling that the Thalia I knew was lost to me forever...unless, I took one more look at the scroll to learn how to reverse the effect.

There wasn't a rainbow anywhere. I slammed my fists repeatedly on the ground, with no way to contact Jason or Nico. That's where Percy found me an hour later, just sobbing into the wall with very disheveled hair.

"Annabeth? You have to come down. I—we'll talk about it later."

"Just leave me alone."

"Annabeth," Percy said with a hint of desperation in his voice, "you _must_ come downstairs. Your...your name, you're the representative for us. You're our champion."


	22. The Untold Story of Cheese

**Chapter Twenty-Two**  
><em><span>Thalia<span>_

One thing about fighting overweight, obese hippos: they're heavy.

Obvious, much? But more on that later.

Now, I had absolutely no idea how I ended up in a prison cell with Montu-the-war-god leaning over me like I was an incredibly interesting specimen of mouse. I didn't need to be snapped up by that beak, thank you very much. And I was pretty sure that I was _not_ the species, _Intrestus Mousus_. **[A.N./ Not too creative, I know.]**

By this point, I was just dozing through Montu-the-war-god's lecture when this red dude marched into the room. Montu immediately shut up, his falcon beak shutting close with a resounding _click_.

The guy—or god?—was really red. He was like a hot chili pepper that had been broiled in about nine zillion degrees Farenheit water. Or cooked slowly over the sun. He had a black goatee, which was about the only thing on him that wasn't red (other than creepy, solid black eyes). He had a black iron staff in one crimson hand and was wearing a red robe.

"Thalia Grace!" he cried, spreading his arms wide out. "How nice of you to join us! Do sit down!"

I stonily glared back at him. The guy snapped his fingers, and two hard-backed chairs appeared in the room. He instantly sat down on one of them, the chair legs groaning like they could barely support his weight. That was understandable.

Montu swept out of the room at Red Dude's command, and closed the door behind him. Red Dude interlaced his fingers. "Introductions!" he eagerly said. "I am..._The Rockin' Red Reaper!_" He bared his fangs into what must have been his version of a smile. "Don't worry, I don't bite. Usually."

"'The Rockin' Red Reaper?'" I skeptically asked.

"The Rockin' Red Reaper" looked slightly mollified. "Well, now, I'm more commonly known as Set. I'm the god of evil and banana cream...and cheese!"

I crossed my arms. "Cheese? And I'm the goddess of...I don't know; mothballs."

"I don't see why you shouldn't be," Set delicately said. "You sure smell like them." He snapped his fingers, and a huge vat of boiling cheese fondue thumped onto the floor. He offered it to me. "I have bread if you want."

"Um...no, thanks."

Set rubbed his hands together with evil glee. "Of course, there's another reason for this lovely pot of melted cheese!" He licked his lips, as if imagining the cheese burning his tongue. "We'll eat it later. Stick your hands into it, please."

I gagged over my tongue. "Excuse me?"

"Come on," Set enticed. "Don't be a wuss."

I growled, "I am _not_ sticking my hands into a vat of fondue so that you can eat them. Besides...it's like a—what do people call it?—an algebraic equation: sticking-hands-into-hot-liquid equals burns. _X _+ _H = B_."

"Ah," Set smiled, spreading his arms like a plane wanting to achieve lift-off. "That's the beauty of it. Oh, I love algebra. Four plus Six plus Sam. **[A.N./ Anybody recognize the reference? _The Power of Six. _I couldn't resist_. _:)]** Sam equals _x_."

"Nerd," I muttered under my breath.

"Anyways, the point is, I swear on Ra's throne and name that no serious harm will come to you. Now, fire away!" He leaned back on his chair, which promptly collapsed. Set sat on the floor, not seeming to notice what happened. "Go on, then. I won't bite." He bared his teeth again. I didn't fancy sticking those things into my neck, so I squeezed my eyes shut and thrust my hands in.

Instantly, it was like white-hot flames were leaping across my skin. I reeled back, my fingers dripping with that sticky yellow stuff and blew on them. "_No serious harm? _Fu—I mean, screw that! Why the heck am I even doing this?"

"Look at your hands," Set simply said. "They aren't burned. Keep it up."

I groaned, and stuck my hands back in. "What the hell are you trying to get me to do? Develop hot-cheese resistance?"

"No," Set said. "No fire or hot-cheese resistance. Although, that _would_ be nice. You'll see. And, please, watch your mouth."

I instinctively jerked to get my hands out, but Set clamped one huge hand over my arms. His hand was hot, like he had a nine thousand degrees fever. It obviously added to my discomfort.

We must have been there for over an hour. Several times, I made futile attempts to escape. The pain wasn't lessening. My breath was coming out harshly, and I was sweating like crazy. When my hands and forearm felt like they were peeling off of me, Set finally released his grip and said, "Take your hands out."

A sound of relief came out of my mouth as I collapsed into my chair, my hand completely encased in cheese. I resolved to never eat cheese again.

Set clicked his fingers, and all the cheese from my hands disappeared. I turned them over. They looked fine. There wasn't a mark on them.

"So? What was that about?" I demanded snidely.

Set didn't answer my question. "Come with me. No more dipping your hands into hot liquids, I promise you." He stood up and swept some splinters off of his robe.

I heavily got up from my chair and trudged down the corridor to follow him. We walked down the hall for a couple minutes, in totally awkward silence. Set finally stopped in front of what seemed to be a dead end. Then, Set pressed his palm against the wall. A single fiery star burned red in the middle of the "dead end", and the huge slab of rock simply disappeared, revealing a very large and lighted room.

"Go in," Set commanded, giving me a nudge. I involuntarily ran in, and as soon as I turned around, Set gave me a malicious smile, shot me with a finger gun, and snapped his fingers. The huge piece of rock reappeared in its place, which basically meant I had nowhere to get out.

I swore. What was I supposed to do in this room? Bore myself to death?

There was a snarl behind me. I froze and slowly turned around.

"Um...nice doggie?" I tried as the black hound leaped at me, its claws winking and its teeth flashing.

I rolled out of the way as the hound landed where my back was a second ago. I backed against the wall, my heartbeat rapidly increasing. I scanned the room for a weapon—only, there wasn't one. I doubted I could use it if I even had one. Since when does a fifteen-year-old girl have weapons training? Then again, your average person was not forced to dip their hands into cheese fondue until their hands were ready to drop off.

The hellhound growled and turned towards me, its glowing red eyes fixed straight onto me.

"Oh, god," I mumbled, edging out of the way. "Set! What the heck—why in the world did you throw me in here?"

No answer. I gritted my teeth and the hellhound began to bound towards me. We had a very interesting game of tag, as I scrambled out of the way of the hellhound's gnashing teeth and the hellhound chasing me with its tail wagging.

I couldn't keep this up forever. Sooner or later, I would soon tire, and the dog would have a lovely dinner. However, this monster would be tiring soon as well...right? It showed no signs of stopping.

I stopped running, breathing harshly. The hellhound bore down on me. A bit of green drool spilled out of its mouth.

"Again...nice doggie?" I ventured again.

The hellhound snarled.

"I'll take that as a 'no'," I weakly said, pressing myself flat against the wall as the hellhound inched closer.

_Punch it_, Set's voice suggested in my head.

_I—what? Are you crazy?_ I thought back. _Hello? Can you hear me?_

_Of course,_ Set irritably said. _Why else would my voice be in your head?_

I swallowed. "Punch it?"

_Yes! Just trust me!_

_You haven't been so much of the "trusting"_ _type the past while..._

But I drew back a hand and smacked the hellhound across the snout. It froze, and its fur stood straight up as if somebody had given it an electric shock. It disintegrated into dust.

_What happened?_

I could almost hear Set smirk. _It's called _electricity, he chatised, as if correcting a little child. _What do you think the cheese fondue was for? _

_Wait. So, you use _cheese_ to make me produce electricity?_

_No. That was you. _A beep went off in my head, and I had a feeling that Set had just "disconnected".

What in the world was happening to me? I looked at my hands again. They weren't glowing with any supernatural glow, or electricity, for that matter.

Before I had a chance to say what was on my mind, another force slammed into me from behind. I went flying across the room and hit the wall, leaving a nice, Thalia-shaped hole in the wall.

I groaned, feeling as though my shoulder (which had borne the brunt of the slam) was on fire. And, sadly, because of Set and his stupid cheese fondue, I knew exactly how that felt.

Let's go back to the beginning. As I looked up, I saw this huge, overgrown, pink-gray-booger-colored hippo glowering down at me. I tried to breathe through my mouth, but I could tell that the hippo didn't use Scope mouthwash. Funny, because it had a serious overbite, and it definitely needed braces. **[A.N./ LOL, I just got braces this Monday.]** And braces had to be kept clean...right?

The hippo grunted, its mountain of flabby skin jiggling. I gagged and struggled to stand up. Not fancying the hippo sitting on me, I nervously glanced at my hands again. Nothing, still. If Set had made me endure that torture just for nothing, I was going to personally kick him in the godly butt and boot him down Mount Everest.

Still, after I had touched that last hellhound, its fur had stood straight up. Then, it had disintegrated. I uneasily stretched my arm forward, and hesitated. The hippo glared at me with its little beady eyes, grunted, and then raised one giant foot, possibly to squash me underfoot. I didn't like being squashed like a bug.

As if my panic couldn't get any worse, the hippo stuck its face straight in front of mine, and gave me a huge, sloppy wet lick.

I hoped that there was a shower somewhere around here.

I wiped my eyes from any excess drool and opened them. The hippo was still there. What other choice did I have? I leaned forwards on my toes and prodded it in the front leg.

The hippo made a squeaking sound as its right leg spasmed. I made the mistake of rubbing my shoulder again, which exploded into pain.

My spine snapped straight up, and I could smell some burned hairs. I keeled over, breathing hard, like a person with emphysema. Stupid electricity. I wish that it didn't exist.

The slab of rock rolled straight onto the hippo, which collapsed under a weight that was even heavier than it was. Set stood there in a red disco suit, smirking from ear to ear. "Rule number one," he said, his voice ringing through the stadium. "Don't _ever_ touch yourself while you have electricity on your hands."

"I _don't__ have any electricity on my hands_."

Set arched an eyebrow. "Really, now?" He had a leather glove on. He picked hip my limp hand with his thumb and forefinger, and I stared at it and yelped. "What the—?"

"You see?" Set sneered. "The cheese fondue had a purpose. Cheese is the antidote to everything!"

"Yeah," I muttered, still a bit dazed. "Cheese. Right..."


	23. Champions

**Um...*knocks on door* Hello? Anybody there? *Holds up paper plate as shield* Please don't kill me...I know I haven't updated in a long time, but I have a piano competition, schoolwork, and other stuff on my mind. Again, really sorry.**

**The idea for this chapter came from one of my most dedicated reviewers, LunaBeth203. (I mean, I hope this is what you wanted...does this count as bonding?) So, thanks, for being such an awesome user/reviewer!  
>Now, I know that I said I would do JasonNico, but she requested for bonding between the demigods and wizards and something for Harry. I'm sure you'll find out later. I admit, I'm doing a crappy job at demigod-magician-wizard-bonding, but...here you are! It's two-part, actually...this one is for the picking of the champions. And remember, NO MORE POSSESSED PEOPLE! YAAAAAAAAAAY!**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter Twenty-Four<span>**  
><em><span>Harry<span>_

Dumbledore clapped brightly after Percy dragged down a red-eyed Annabeth. The whole Great Hall followed with a smattering of applause as McGonagall ushered her into the back room where the champions were.

I heard some people rustle behind me, and saw Travis and Connor Stoll sit on the floor, wearing identical smirks that were so remniscent of Fred and George's I-didn't-steal-anything-from-your-pockets-why-do-you-ask? look. The rest of the visitors filed down next to them.

"Honestly!" was the first thing that burst out of Will's mouth. "I totally expected Percy to be chosen as our representative! I mean, he's Hero of Olympus and all..." He raised an eyebrow at Percy.

Percy just shrugged. "I don't know; I think I want to take a break from being the center of attention."

Hermione turned around in her chair. "What's all of this about Greek mythology?" she demanded. "First, you guys ask for a bonfire so that you can sacrifice a portion of your food for no apparent reason, and then, in that History of Magic Class, you pretty much began a long lecture, listing about a billion reasons why magic isn't related to the Greek gods in any way. What are you people; so addicted with Greek mythology that you even sacrifice food to make-believe gods?"

Ron gasped and pointed at her dramatically. "Who are you, and what have you done to Hermione Granger?"

Hermione fiercely frowned at him and switched her attention back to the "Greek mythology addicts". All of them were cringing as thunder rumbled outside. Will Solace whispered meekly, "I wouldn't...um, be dissing the gods if I were you."

Percy grunted. "Bad things happen." He scowled as if remembering someone who dissed the supposed Greek "gods" and didn't get away with it.

Jaz shrugged, as Sadie glowered at the floor. She was obviously still pissed that Carter Kane, her brother, had been chosen by the Goblet of Fire. As an added bonus, right when Annabeth had reprimanded her on "arriving on time for an important occasion", she had had a nervous breakdown herself, and had to be brought down by Percy.

Dumbledore was beginning his speech.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our five champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real—"

I stared as the fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out—"Harry Potter."

Merlin's beard. Was the goblet faulty or something?

I just sat there, frozen like the rest of the Great Hall. A huge buzz began to fill the hall, and I was utterly and completely aware that my ears were turning red as everybody stared at me, their mouths hanging open. Nobody cared about why these visitors were obsessed about mythological gods anymore; they were too concentrated onto me to care.

Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly. I turned to Ron and Hermione; beyond them, I saw the long Gryffindor table all watching him, openmouthed. Sadie whispered, "Oh my god."

"I didn't put my name in," I said blankly. "You know I didn't."

All of them stared just as blankly back. Well, that boosted my morale wonderfully.

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

"Go on," Hermione whispered, giving me a slight push.

I got to my feet, trod on the hem of my robes, and stumbled slightly. I set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. It felt like an immensely long walk; the top table didn't seem to be getting any nearer at all, and I could feel hundreds and hundreds of eyes upon him, as though each were a searchlight. The buzzing grew louder and louder.

I was aware that my face was probably completely red by now. I stumbled to Dumbledore, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"Well...through the door, Harry," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling. I moved off along the teachers' table. Hagrid was seated right at the end. He was just as surprised as everybody else, staring at me in surprise.

I went through the door out of the Great Hall and found himself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite of me. The faces in the portraits turned to look at me as I entered. I saw a wizened witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a wizard with a walrus mustache. The wizened witch started whispering in his ear.

Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour, Annabeth Chase, and Carter Kane were all grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched up and brooding, was leaning against the mantlepiece, slightly apart from the other four. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring at the wall. Annabeth was gloomily staring at the fire, hunched over with her arms crossed. Carter was just fidgeting uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the room as if he expected to get attacked any second. Fleur Delacour looked around when I walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.

"What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

She thought that I had come to deliver a message. I didn't know how to explain what had just happened. I just stood there, looking at the three champions. Well, at least Carter and Annabeth weren't _that_ tall; the three wizards looked rather..."heighty".

There was a sound of scurrying feet behind me, and Ludo Bagman entered the room. He took me by the arm and led me forward.

"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing my arm. What, so he was so happy that my life was in danger?

"Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen...ladies," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce—incredible though it may seem—the sixth Triwizard champion?"

Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed me. It took all my willpower not to wince under his gaze. Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to me and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely bewildered. Fleur frowned. Annabeth and Carter apolegitically looked at me.

"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. "E cannot compete. 'E is too young."

Annabeth sighed. "Evidently, _we're_ too young, too."

"Yeah," Cedric quietly pointed out, "but apparently—"

"We got special 'per-mi-ssion'," Carter finished, slowly enunciating each syllable of "permission". "But why does that matter?"

Fleur huffed. Carter and Annabeth settled back down on the floor.

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. I heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door. To my surprise, an old man in a wheelchair rolled in, Sadie, Jason, Percy, and a chocolaty-red wolf padded after them.

_Hmph!_ The wolf's sound of indignation reverbrated around my head. Judging from the expression on the other's faces, they could hear it too. _Maybe this magic goblet _was_ malfunctioning. This situation is atrocious!_

"Um, meaning no disrespect, Lupa, but I don't think that the goblet was faulty," Jason mildly pointed out.

Annabeth shuddered. "Yeah, well, I have to agree with the wolf. I didn't do anything other than give Luke my knife so he could could commit suicide."

"Don't say that!" Percy furiously said.

"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur once the visitors had ceased their banter (which was quite a while), striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"

Sadie stifled a snort and asked, "Little boy?" the same time I was thinking those words.

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. Dumbledore, who wasn't a midget himself, looked like a Pee-Wee Pillow Pet next to Madame Maxime.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she asked imperiously.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions—or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

He gave a short and nasty laugh. Carter cringed at the sound of it.

"_C'est impossible_," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most injust."

"Now, now," the old man said gently, "against my better judgement, you cannot repeal your champions just because of one extra wizard from Hogwarts." Judging from the expression on Karkaroff and Maxime's faces, he had interpreted their facial grimaces perfectly.

_Ha!_ the wolf, Lupa barked. _I agree with these magicians. Either all of us have another champion to be chosen, or this tournament is over!_

"Your Wolfliness," Sadie said, exaggerating the fake word, "look at the rules manuel." She took a small booklet and flipped through the pages, cleared her throat, and recited, "'Those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament. The Goblet of Fire shall not reignite until the start of the next tounament." She snapped the book shut with a superior look on her face, which I didn't quite like.

"Mr. Crouch...Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our—er—objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.

"We must follow the rules, and, as Ms. Kane explained, the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"I _told_ you," Sadie grumbled, "The Goblet won't erupt into pretty blue flames until the start of the next tournament!"

"—in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"And I _also_ said," Sadie said, just as heatedly, "The people whose names come out of the Goblet are bound by some magic to compete. You can't repeal yours now."

They went nose-to-nose, and I didn't get why Sadie was so passionate about this. Carter and Annabeth both looked uncomfortable, as with Jason and Percy.

Karkaroff snapped away and snarled. He refused to look at Sadie for the remainder of the session.

Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"

Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.

"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes...the first task..."

He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, I thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told me, Cedric, Fleur, Annabeth, Carter, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard...very important."

"We're not wizards," Percy muttered, but quickly shut up after the glare Annabeth gave him.

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges.

"The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament.

"The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands—er, Annabeth and Carter, you may use your blades if you wish, although you may also use your bought wands.

"They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

Percy moaned. "End-of-the-year tests? You have _gotta_ be kidding me."

Lupa snapped at him.


	24. Artymoose

**Come on. Guys, I said that I would update sporadically. :)  
><strong>

**Settling into my new account pretty well. I heard from **a couple of you guys in my Percy Jackson fics on said account. Want some huuuuuuuuuuge hints? One of them's a tribute story. Another is talking about Percy and his relationships. All I can say about the final PJO fic is that: Whatever it says in the summary, there's absolutely _no_ Thalico, and imagine Percy teaching archery.**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter Twenty-Five<span>**  
><em><span>Percy<span>_

"So..." I asked Annabeth as we left the room. I was still wincing from when Lupa nearly bit my ear off. "What do you think this courage test will be about?"

Annabeth sighed through her nose, clearly uninterested. "I don't know. Jump into a vat of lava and don't get burned. Get swallowed alive by a hydra. Who knows?"

The sound of squeaking wheels drew her distracted attention away from me, which I didn't appreciate. Chiron seriously needed to oil his wheels, didn't he?

"Chiron!" Annabeth nearly yelped. "Can you get something for me from Olympus?"

Chiron raised a hand, his face grave. "Annabeth, there is no remedy. I'm sorry."

Now, I hadn't the slightest idea on what they were talking about, but Annabeth's mouth became a thin line. "That's not possible."

"What's not possible?" somebody else butted in. Sadie, Carter, and Harry had emerged from the room, all looking haggard and decrepit for some reason or another.

"Look on the bright side!" Carter enthused. "Everything's possible!"

Chiron's look told otherwise. "If there was a solution, I would love to hear it, Annabeth. Zeus is most upset."

Harry blinked, looking utterly confused. "Zeus?"

"Yes," Chiron said seriously. "King of the gods. Lord of the sky."

"Um…sure…" Harry's tone made it clear that he had no idea what Chiron was talking about.

"Here, why don't I explain?" I hurriedly suggested, linking arms with the wizard and dragging him up the stairs with me.

Harry looked at me as if I was psycho and jerked back. "Are you kidding me?" he demanded, his ear tips burning red.

I blinked. "What?"

"Please," Harry groaned, "never link arms with me again."

Now that I thought of it, my action seemed wrong on so many levels.

I felt my own face burning now. "Sorry, Harry."

Harry shrugged uneasily as we ascended the steps, now staying a few inches away from me at all times as if I were a gay ra—

You know what, no. If Annabeth heard me say that, I would be hurtling towards the pits of Tartarus before you could say "Oh, gods." And I really don't want to lose my love life right now, so I'll just be moving on.

"So. The gods," I started. "They're…immortal, powerful, grumpy, and old."

Harry looked at me. "You know, the last two words totally contradict the first two. I mean, why would they be grumpy if they're powerful, and if they're immortal, wouldn't they be 'eternally young'?"

I stared at him. "Now, you're starting to sound like Annabeth."

Harry snorted. "Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?"

I pondered it over. "Well…depending on how you look at it, I guess it would be different. But as of right now, we can say that it's a bad thing."

"Well, if it sounds like it's so because it sounds like a smart-aleck comment, you can blame Hermione."

I snorted. "Our female friends, huh?"

Harry agreed, "You could say that." He looked at me. "Back to the gods?"

I cleared my throat. "Um. Right. Well, I can't really say anything else about them without being blasted to smithereens, so I guess I'll just run through all of them."

"Fire away," Harry simply said.

I licked my lips. "Okay, so, Zeus—the dude that Chiron was talking about before—is the king of the gods, and one of the Big Three. The Big Three are just the three eldest sons of Kronos, who was the Titan King, except that the gods overthrew him in the First Titan War, but when he made a comeback last summer, we fought him off, and Kronos's host, a guy called Luke killed himself, and—"

Harry laughed. "Whoa, Percy, take a breath! That was totally a run-on sentence!"

I stopped, panting and sucking in a huge breath. "Okay. So anyways, back to Zeus. He's the god of the sky, lightning, weather, and a bunch of other stuff. And I'd say that he's the grumpiest of the bunch, but don't tell him I said that."

Harry snorted. "Don't worry, I won't. He has kids, right? Like…like…"

"Heracles?" I suggested. "Minos. Perseus. And another whole bunch of demigods I can't even name. But the only two children he has that are alive this century…you met Jason and Thalia, right?"

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yeah…the guy and girl with the blue eyes, right?"

"Er, yes," I murmured. "They're actually full siblings, something that's pretty rare among us demigods, and Thalia's, like, ten years older than Jason."

Harry looked like he had been hit in the face. "Really?"

"Oh…yeah, I forgot to mention, Thalia's a Hunter—we'll get to that later—and is pretty much immortal, so she doesn't age. I think that Jason would be older than her by now, actually…"

Harry was silent for a moment. "That is, undoubtedly, the weirdest thing I have ever heard in my life. A younger brother being older than his older sister? Merlin's beard…"

I chose not to comment on the beard remark. "Anyways, my dad's Poseidon. He's the god of the sea, and one of the Big Three, too."

"I guess that he has black hair and green eyes," Harry said, deadpan.

I smirked. "Yes, and he carries around this trident that he can use to—"

"Cook fish," Harry suggested.

"Yeah," I agreed. "That, and kill things."

As we steadily worked our way through the gods—and a lot of minor ones—the funniest had to go to when I was describing Artemis. I swear, if Thalia were here to hear our conversation, she would have killed Harry right there and then.

"So, anyways, Artemis was the goddess of the moon and the Hunt—oh, and you know the Hunters comment?"

"Yes…"

"Um…the Hunters are, in the loosest definition possible, hers."

"So…let me get this straight," Harry said. "Arty-moose is the goddess of the moon, and she's the owner of the 'Honeys of Arty-moose'?"

I was doubled over with laughter by that point.

Harry looked at me, annoyed. "What? I'm trying to be realistic! Was I right, or not?"

All he got in response was a steady stream of laughter.


End file.
